Linger
by Gater101
Summary: AU/AH. Max and Liz are best friends – have been for a long time. Anyone who didn’t know them would be blinded by the chemistry between them. The only thing is – Max is gay and Liz, well, she’s not a guy.
1. Act I, Scene I

**Title:** Linger  
**Story Summary:** Max and Liz are best friends – have been for a long time. Anyone who didn't know them would be blinded by the chemistry between them. The only thing is – Max is gay and Liz, well, she's not a guy.  
**Characters:** Team Roswell, Serena Jack, John Beckett and Soren Alridge.  
**Pairings:** Liz/Soren, Max/John, Michael/Maria, Liz-Max  
**Rating:** Mature  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters of Roswell; they belong to Jason Katims etc. No infringement intended.

**Notes:** This was inspired by emz80m's story, _Straighten You Out_.

Part One

Chapter Summary: Liz smiled; it was displays like that that kept the other guys – and girls – at bay.

The pounding beat reverberated through her chest. The flashing lights danced in and out of focus as she swayed her head from side to side. His body against hers was hard and solid; his hands on her hips and waist were firm and commanding. God, she was so warm; sweat trickled down her back and pooled at the waistband of her jeans and soaked through the material of her vest stop. When she looked up, his eyes were closed as he moved to the same rhythmic beat of the music that she was, his lips curved up in a slight smile. She laughed at his expression lightly as strands of his loner than normal hair stuck to his sweaty forehead but she didn't move to push them aside.

She turned and pressed her back into his chest, his hands coming to rest automatically on her hips again, guiding her unnecessarily to the beat. She could feel his breath on her neck but she danced on, swinging from side to side, moving her hands around her body as his hands stroked over her skin. She felt him slide her hair across her back, twisting up into a roll atop her head and she was thankful for the momentary coolness on her neck as he danced around to her front.

They grinned at one another, laughing but didn't stop as the song switched and the bass vibrated up her legs. Their quiet drink in the local bar had turned into a full scale clubbing night and her protests of being under dressed went unheard as Max, Michael, John, Soren, Maria, Serena and a few others herded her through the doors. She didn't even have any make up on, she'd complained, to which Max had lightly tapped her nose and spun her towards the dance floor.

Almost an hour later, they were still there, not-quite grinding to the pumping mixture of music that floated over their heads.

"I need another drink," Max roared into her ear as he shook his empty plastic cup in her face before twisting down to his haunches before sashaying up her body, grinning as he deposited the cup on the floor as he did so. She nodded and grabbed onto his waistband as they made their way through the crowd towards the even more crowded bar. "You're not short of a few admirers," he murmured in her ear as he tugged her around to the front of his body and used her to part the crowd in front of him.

As she looked around, she noted a few staring at her, their gazes lingering curiously on Max's hands on her hips. She laughed lightly and twisted slightly in Max's grip to smile lightly up at him.

"Neither are you," she said coyly as she indicated with her head a group at the other end of the bar watching him, their gazes anything but subtle. She could feel his laugh vibrate in his chest and she rolled her eyes. "Michael and Maria are over there," she said though she knew he couldn't hear her so she pointed instead and he guided her through the crowd again towards them, protecting her with his body.

When they reached their friends' side, Max pushed Liz playfully away from him trying to duck in front of her at the bar but she only rolled her eyes and flashed Maria a smile as she shook her own half empty glass at her. Liz nodded but indicated Max; he would get her drink – he always did. She could feel eyes on her again but she didn't bother looking around. Instead she frowned in Maria's direction and held her hands palm up and Maria pointed somewhere behind her, indicating where their friends were sitting.

When Max and Michael turned, three drinks cradled in each of their hands, Liz and Maria strode away from them, parting the crowds while the two followed quickly behind. At the overcrowded table, Liz turned to Max and took her drink from him and slid into the booth beside Soren as Max slid in next to her, clinking a shot glass together with Michael.

"You're lucky I know you're gay, Evans," Soren said beside Liz and she couldn't hold the smile back as Max turned to him and lifted his eyebrow playfully questioning.

"And why's that?"

Soren tucked his arm around Liz and playfully pulled her into his side and Liz laughed.

"You're a good dancer," Soren replied instead, lifting his eyebrow and Liz bit her lip, laughing as Max simply shrugged before turning back to John who'd slid into the other side of the booth. Liz turned back to Soren and slid her hand onto his leg, high up his thigh and she smiled slightly when his eyes slid shut and his breath billowed out across her neck.

"Did watching Max and I turn you on?" She asked lightly, almost disinterestedly but when Soren opened his eyes, he could see the mischief lingering in the darkness.

He lowered his lips to her ear and nibbled her lobe causing Liz to moan lightly in the back of her throat.

"Watching one of you certainly did," he replied as her hand ghosted over the hardness in his jeans. She smirked as she sipped her drink, looking over at Serena who was watching them with an amused smile playing on her lips.

"Should John be worried?" She asked glibly as she turned her head slightly to look up at Soren, his blue eyes meeting hers.

"John should only be worried if it turns out Max is bi."

Liz laughed and through her head back, drawing questioning looks from the others around the table but she ignored their reaction, instead, turning back to Soren with a questioning smile on her face.

"And why's that?"

"Cause I'd cut his dick off for the way he was touching you," he replied deadpan.

She laughed again, though lower as his eyes darkened as he watched her.

"And that should worry John, how?"

But she already knew the answer – she enjoyed teasing him. In fact, it had been the reason she had chosen to dance with Max the way she had been. Granted, she would have, even if Soren hadn't been there but both Max and Liz knew that their dancing turned on their respective partners. It was all fun and the fact that Liz was a girl made it all 'okay' in the eyes of the others.

"Cause then he wouldn't be getting any."

Liz pouted playfully over at John, pretending to be upset for him but the other man only frowned at her before rolling his eyes amused. She peaked the edge of her tongue over her lip at him and he lifted his eyebrow at her, his smirk widening suggestively. She could feel Soren's arm tighten around her and she laughed again, tucking herself closer into his embrace.

She enjoyed making him predatory; they both knew her flirting was just fun, those she did flirt with all gay. Soren tugged her into his lap on let his lips fall onto hers, the kiss not far from unkind and almost drew blood.

She moaned.

When she slid back into her seat, she turned to Max when she noted John reach out to tap him on the back of the hand. When she did, she met Max's bemused expression and she narrowed her eyes at him and playfully swatted him on the arm, causing him to laugh and turn away, muttering from the corner of his lip,

"You'll get us thrown out with displays like that."

She scoffed good naturedly and shoved him hard.

"I saw you two last time we were here; I'm surprised that didn't get you two put in jail!"

Max had the decency to blush lightly while John simply smiled smugly, closing his hand discretely over Max's.

"Come on, Liz," Maria and Serena said as they shuffled out of the booth, reaching their hands out to her. She looked up at them questioningly. "Let's get some of these fine ladies hot under the collar."

Liz laughed as she stood and shuffled past Max, squaking loudly as he nipped the skin at the base of her spine with his teeth. She swatted his head and jumped from the booth before he could respond.

"Just don't get these girls too worked up," Michael called out to Maria as they retreated. "Wouldn't want to have to save you like we did last time!"

Maria turned quickly and narrowed her eyes.

"Well if you guys took a leaf from Max's book and weren't afraid to dance in a gay bar, we wouldn't need to dance with girls, in front of girls, for girls."

Maria cocked her head and Michael copied her gesture, smirking up at her.

"But I like watching you dance with the girls, for the girls."

Maria narrowed her eyes even as Liz and Serena dragged her out onto the dance floor, laughing.

It wasn't long before Max and John joined them, grinding against each other as much as they did the girls and Liz laughed as Max spun her and dipped her back over his bent knee and nipped at her ear playfully as he tugged her back up.

Liz smiled; it was displays like that that kept the other guys – and girls – at bay.


	2. Scene II

Part Two.

The sound of his voice, though usually not unwelcome, caused her to groan. She could hear him chuckle and she reached her hand out into the cool morning air and batted him away, tucking herself further into the soft pillow beneath her.

Usually Liz was a morning person but the night before she had thought it would be a good idea to sit up all night and have crazy phone sex with Soren while he visited his parents in Stockholm. Not only was she exhausted but her body ached in ways it hadn't done in years.

"If you hadn't stayed up all night panting into your phone about how good your hands felt on you, you wouldn't be contemplating not going into work." She swatted at him again before pausing, hand mid air, at his words. She pushed herself up onto her knees and the duvet slid around her body and glanced back at him over her shoulder. He wiggled his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes before stretching her arms to the headboard and arching her back slightly. She heard Max's chuckle and she paused again, glancing back at him. "I'm sure this is how Soren imagined having you last night," he said cheekily and she simply wiggled her butt in the air. She felt his hand connect with the soft flesh of her butt and she yelped, twisting onto her back to hit out at him. He was already gone.

She tugged a long tee shirt over her head to cover her bare chest before she padded out into the hallway, turning her head left and right wondering whether to head to the bathroom to freshen up or to head to the kitchen where the gentle aroma of morning coffee was wafting towards her.

In the kitchen, Max was leaning against her worktop, his own cup of coffee cradled between his two hands. He eyed her attire and shook his head slightly, moving past him to the coffee machine, using her petite frame to shuffle him out of the way.

"Working today?" She asked as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, noting his casual wear.

He shook his head and Liz nodded, lowering her eyes. Max had graduated college with a degree in leisure and sports and had gone into teaching but spaces for his expertise were short and he had been working as a temp for the last year and a half. Usually, he always had work but it seemed that in the last few months he'd had to move to cities and towns hundreds of miles away just to get a job for one day.

"Are you?"

Liz shrugged and looked to the clock on the wall. Her deadline for the next chapter of her book wasn't for another two weeks and she was already ahead of schedule. The labs didn't need her much other than to sign off on a few of the experiments the graduate students wanted to carry out.

"I was planning on writing the rest of the chapter, hand it in early." He pursed his lips and nodded at her over the top of his cup. She could read the sparkle in his eye and she narrowed her own in return. "Why?" He shrugged nonchalantly and took another sip of his coffee. She looked into the living room through the kitchen door and noted the sheet on the couch. "Did you sleep here last night?" She asked quickly and turned her head back to him as he nodded sheepishly. "How did you get in? I didn't hear you."

He smirked as he lowered his cup and Liz felt a blush rise up her cheeks.

"You were busy."

She scrunched up her face as she looked at the ruffled cushions on her sofa and she narrowed her eyes at him as she pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the worktop.

"You know I don't like you sleeping on the couch."

He laughed as he moved towards her, sliding between her legs and placing his palms on either side of her hips.

"I was not being party to your late night rendezvous," he muttered as his eyes glittered mischievously.

"Did John kick you out?" She asked lightly as she lifted her cup to her mouth again and sipped the brown liquid.

Max laughed and shook his head, stepping away from her to reach for his own cup before coming to rest between her legs again, dropping his head onto her shoulder.

"Nah," he murmured quietly and she glanced down at him with a furrow in her brow at the tone of his voice. "I never made it there. I..." He took a sudden step back and Liz frowned at him as he turned his back to her, spilling some of his coffee as he banged the cup down onto the small breakfast bar. "There was this guy..."

Liz closed her eyes and sighed, shaking her head as she felt the familiar wave of disappointment at his actions.

"Max, you didn't...?"

"No!" He said vehemently as he spun back around to look at her, the fire in his eyes startling her for a moment but she covered it quickly. She had known Max almost all of her life and the fact that he had come to her instead of going home to his boyfriend because of some guy was a big deal. She pressed her lips together and let him continue. "I... I wanted to."

Liz sighed and reached out to him, pulling him into the space he had vacated, tilting his head up so his eyes met hers. To Liz, seeing Max like this, while certainly not uncommon in the first few months of his sexual exploration, hadn't happened in a long while. He was comfortable with his sexuality and from what she knew, he loved John. They'd been together for almost three years and Liz remembered the first time John had been introduced to them at her twenty first birthday party. That was, quite possibly, the last time she had seen this side of Max. Since then, he'd been comfortable in his skin, in his sexuality, in his life.

"Did you?"

He shook his head and dropped his head against her shoulder again, grinding out a long sigh.

"But fuck, Liz..." He took a breath and pulled himself away from her again and leaned his back against the kitchen bar. "He just looked at me and I was hard."

She quirked the corner of her lip up in a half smirk. At first, it had been weird to hear Max talk like that but she'd sucked it up and gotten used to it.

"Well, as long as you didn't do anything..."

He squinted up at her and she closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly. Max had had a number of... altercations with other men; nothing that he construed as cheating but enough to make him feel as guilty as hell. Liz got it and she didn't; if Soren told her he had done some of the things Max had done (with a girl), she would not be happy. But at the same time, she also understood the way Max worked.

"What did you do?" She sighed and plopped her feet onto the ground, moving to wash her now empty cup of coffee.

He shrugged and moved around her, taking the cup from her hands and turned it upside down on the drainer. She frowned up at him at that but he simply shrugged.

"The guy has a hot mouth, Liz," he murmured into her ear and she paused before turning to look up at him, her hands finding their way to her hips. "Go get a shower, buttercup," he said breezily as he flicked the end of her nose with his tongue and made his way into the living room. She was about to move when his head popped back across the threshold and he looked almost sheepish. "You may want to wash those sheets I used last night."

She closed her eyes and sighed, counting back from five. He was her best friend; she couldn't kill him.

But if he used her sheets to beat off to again, she just might.

--

Later that night, after Max had dragged Liz to the mall to buy the new silver brogues he'd seen the day before, Liz typed away at her laptop lazily, her mind and eyes wandering to the phone lying lifelessly on the bedside table. All she had to do was pick it up and dial his number, forget about the overseas charges, and let her hands roam over her body where he wanted her to put them. She ached for his touch so much that she actually squirmed at the thought of his voice, and drew her legs together.

This was not good.

The sounds of the television got louder as the door to her bedroom opened a crack and Max's tousled head appeared in the tiny gap.

"Still writing?" He asked quietly as though his noise level would encourage or discourage her flow.

She looked over to him and smiled tiredly, flapping her hands idly at the screen.

"Not really."

"Need some inspiration?" He asked as he slid through the crack and wandered slowly to her bed, sliding up beside her when he got there.

She looked down at him as he leant on his hand, his head level with her hips.

"And how are you going to inspire me, Evans?"

He laughed lowly, his breath washing over her hip and Liz felt the ache inside her intensify. God, she really needed Soren. Max's breath was turning her on; it was ridiculous. He'd only been gone for four days; she still had another ten to go.

"I didn't mean me," he said as his hand reached out and tapped a few buttons on her laptop. He stilled when she glared playfully down at him and sheepishly withdrew his finger. She felt it on the only sliver of exposed flesh on her body and she sighed slightly, berating her body for needing someone so much. "I meant Soren."

Liz laughed.

"I think you ruined the mood when you came in."

He glanced up at her and she could see the surprise in his eyes, in the way his eyebrows disappeared into his shaggy bangs.

"You were going to call him?" he asked as he sat up slightly, getting ready to move but Liz put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him down.

"I was going to but I don't want to."

"Why not?" He queried as he settled back down beside her, reaching out to touch the buttons on her laptop but she batted his hand away with a laugh.

She shrugged in answer to his question and pressed a few buttons, powering down the laptop.

"He's visiting his family," she said as she settled down into the pillows, watching as the light from passing cars flittered across the ceiling. She shrugged again. "I don't want to appear clingy."

Max laughed and reached out to trace the silver smiley face of her pyjama top and she laughed at the tickling sensation of his finger.

"Makes a change," he said lowly and Liz put her hand on his wrist, stopping his movements.

"What do you mean?"

He looked up at her, startled for a moment before he shook his head, laying his hand flat against her abdomen.

"Nothing."

"You obviously meant something."

He squinted up at her but Liz did not relent. He looked down to his hand over her body and hesitated. She felt his fingers twitch slightly and he looked back up to her.

"What do you think Soren would think if the next time you had phone sex, it was me touching you instead of you?"

Liz frowned at the question but didn't move. She'd gotten used to the tangents of Max's mind but this was a new one. His fingers began to move on her stomach again and she felt the muscles tense in preparation for the tickling sensation that never came. Instead, she felt Max's fingers brush the underside of her breast before they both froze.

"I think," Liz said as she covered Max's hand with hers and slid it a little further up before removing it and tucking it around her waist, "neither of us would appreciate that."

Max groaned and rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his face.

"I'm just horny," he said and Liz let out an airy laugh.

"And you solve that by trying to grope me?" She tried for indignant but even she could hear the humour in her voice. Max peered at her from under his elbow and studied her for a moment before he groaned and buried his head in her shoulder.

"I'm _horny_."

Liz laughed again and ruffled the back of his hair as he threw an arm over her waist again.

"Have you called John?" He groaned again and shook his head. "Do you mind if I do?" She asked with a cheeky grin and Max propped himself up on his forearms to look down at her, his expression a mixture between amusement and confusion. "I'm horny too and he's..." John Beckett was another one of the population that the women had lost out on. His six foot two inch frame towered over Liz and his hazel eyes were warm enough to melt the polar ice caps. His dark hair was untameable, marred by five or six cows' licks that he somehow managed to pull off.

When she'd first met him, she'd seriously considered asking if he was bi.

"As beautiful as you are, Liz, you've got boobs."

"He doesn't go for that?"

Max shook his head in mock sympathy, his lips disappearing between his teeth.

"Nope."

"What does he think of yours?" She said lightly as she flicked his nipple through his shirt.

"That was low, Parker, even for you," he said through a grin but Liz simply smiled down at him. "I called Michael," he said instead as he settled back down against her, after sliding her laptop to the floor. "I told him I was going to crash here for a couple of days."

Liz turned to him and met his sleepy eyes.

"You did, did you?" He nodded and Liz couldn't help but smile. "You better wash your sheets then."

He popped one eye open and watched her for a moment before he buried his head further into the pillow.

"You don't like me sleeping on the couch." She sighed in faux resignation as she settled into his loose embrace, still lying on her back. "Good night, Liz," he said as he pressed his lips lightly on her shoulder.

"You should call him, Max," she said quietly, some minutes later.

She could feel his smile against her shoulder.

"You should call Soren," he murmured as his hand ghosted over her breast and she felt her nipple harden beneath her top. She sighed and closed her eyes, and turned her back into Max's chest and nestled her butt in his crotch. "That's low, Liz. Really low."

"You should turn the television off," she said tiredly as the sound of the lounge television met her ears.

"The timer will get it," he murmured into her hair and Liz sighed again, feeling sleep tug at her subconscious.

"I don't have a timer, Max."

She felt him shrug.

"Then we'll get it in the morning." She nodded and began to drift off. Max's arm tightened around her waist and she settled further back into him. "What would Soren think of us lying here like this?"

She rolled her eyes good naturedly and wiggled her butt against his crotch, eliciting another growl from him.

"He wouldn't think anything, do you know why?"

"Why?" he asked, even though he knew the answer. Liz smiled.

"Because you're gay, Max."

"Oh," he murmured and Liz laughed. "I'm horny."

Liz laughed again and shifted, drawing another groan from him.

"Me too, Max. Me too."


	3. Scene III

Part Three  
Chapter Summary: She wished she could have said something - anything - other than that.

From the bed, he could hear them talking and as he was pulled further from sleep, he groaned. He'd heard the doorbell and had all but shoved Liz from the bed so she could answer it and had ducked his head back under the covers in hopes that sleep would return. Which it had.

For all of thirty seconds.

Screwing his eyes shut against the bright sunlight that scorched in the window, he groaned again and sat up, letting the sheets fall from his body. He knew it was only a matter of time before he came around but he still wasn't quite sure what he was going to say. John didn't understand that sometimes, Max just needed his space; but he couldn't tell John this because the first (and only) time he ever had, John had stropped off and hadn't spoken to him for weeks.

He sighed and dropped his feet to the floor, shivering slightly at the dip in temperature and he felt the skin on his legs goose pimple. When he'd awoken earlier in the morning, it had still been dark out and the evidence of how horny he was had been poking into Liz's back; thankfully, she hadn't awoken and Max had sat for ten minutes trying to tell himself to calm down. This time, the chill quickly took care of what Max had only half managed to do earlier.

"...not getting in the middle of whatever is going on with you two."

Max froze as he walked down the hall, his eyes closing as Liz's words reached his ears. Great, he thought, just what he needed; John was difficult and closed off at the best of times, never mind when he'd had the opportunity to go on the defensive.

When he rounded the corner, he could see John's eyes shift from Liz and Max was momentarily startled by the coldness in his usually warm hazel eyes; it's a look Max has seen, though only once and the thought that he put it there sent a jar through his chest.

He loves John, he really does.

But sometimes it was difficult to remember that they're together.

"Max." His voice was flat and Max winced but he kept his eyes on John even as Liz whirled around and stared at him open mouthed. He smiled tightly back at her and his eyes slid to her for a moment, taking in her rumpled form. "So you are here," he said and turned his eyes to Liz, the tone in his voice condemning.

Liz simply sighed and walked away, pausing for a second to touch Max's arm. He watched her leave – anything so he didn't need to turn and face the conversation with John.

"What are you doing here, John?" Max asked as he turned back to his lover, his tone resigned. It was far too early and he was in no mood to fight.

John, for his part, looked as weary and as tired as Max felt and as he took a seat next to him on the sofa, he felt the first pangs of regret; he hated his need to be alone. He hated the way that John could make his emotions flip from one extreme to the other.

"What are you doing here, Max?" John replied, the usual bite in his tone missing. Max winced at that. "This isn't your home."

Max closed his eyes and leaned back on the sofa, avoiding the gaze of his lover. He knew that tone. He'd _invented_ that tone. Back in the day when he was the jealous type, he'd used that tone a lot.

"I just needed somewhere to crash."

"You can 'crash' at ours, Max. That's what it's there for."

Max leant forward and turned his head to meet John's eyes.

"That's not what I meant."

John sighed and fell back against the back of the sofa, his fingers digging into his eyes. Max felt bad, he really did.

"I know," John said as he sighed. His eyes flickered around the room and Max could see his mind doing inventory of what he was seeing and, ridiculously, he held his breath. "You don't sleep on the couch when you stay here?" Max shook his head and glanced away. "Even when Soren stays over?"

Max could hear the cheeky grin in John's voice and he turned to him with a tight smile, knowing that the joviality was forced.

"I'm never here when Soren stays over."

And it was true; he never was. The thought of hearing Liz and Soren going at it was enough to put him off sex for life never mind hearing it. Liz had been with Soren for almost as long as Max had been with John and in those first few months of Liz and Soren's relationship Max had felt the tingling of his very own green eyed monster. Sure, Soren was devastatingly pretty – but that wasn't what he had been jealous of. He'd been jealous that Soren could share Liz's bed, Liz's time, Liz's laugh. Max couldn't remember a time when he spent as little time in Liz's company as in those first few months of Soren and Liz's relationship.

It had sucked.

"God," John said as he dragged his hand over his face, tugging his tanned skin along with his fingers. It showed Max just how tired his lover was and it was unnerving. He made to reach out to cover John's hand with his own but John pulled back, almost subconsciously, and fisted his hands at his sides. "No wonder Soren is the way he is," he murmured and let out an airy laugh and Max could visibly see his muscles relax as his own tightened.

"What the hell does that mean?" Max half yelled as he stood up from his perch, his blood pumping adrenaline through his veins.

John sighed and dug his fingers into his eyes again but Max was not soothed. His blood was boiling and he could feel the irrepressible urge to hit something rise within him. He took a deep breath, and another, closing his eyes as he did so.

"I didn't come here to fight, Max," John said quietly, apologetically and Max turned to him, dropping his shoulders from their tense spot around their ears. "I didn't even come here to find you," he continued and Max frowned. "I came to see if Liz wanted to go for breakfast before I did her hair."

Max's frown deepened and he retook his seat, dropping his head into his hands. He was tired; more tired than he remembered being in years.

"So how did..."

John quirked a half smile in Max's direction and max felt the familiar tingling of attraction; it had been a long time since he'd felt those towards John.

"Before I could get a word out she proclaimed that you weren't here." Max frowned at that, wondering why she had lied. "She's your best friend, Max," John continued and Max looked to him, "she's just trying to protect you." Max frowned again and looked away, his breath coming in heavy sighs. He hated this; he hated these conflicting emotions. He jerked when he felt something on his skin and when he looked down, he saw John's strong fingers weaving their way through his. He gave a gentle squeeze before withdrawing his hand, rubbing it through his tousled hair. He heard John sigh and he closed his eyes. "You don't need protection from me, Max."

Max licked his lips as he nodded but couldn't bring himself to look at his lover – not yet.

"I know."

Silence descended upon them, uncomfortable and thick and as Max shifted on the chair, John tried to reach out again. Max let him touch him, tried to tell himself not to pull away from the familiar touch.

"Whatever it is you're going through," John said quietly, desperately, and Max sucked in a breath, "I hope you get out of it soon." He paused for a moment and Max let out his breath. "I miss you."

Max laughed half heartedly at that and turned into John's quick embrace.

"I've only been gone a day and a half."

John touched his cheek and smiled forlornly, his expression unreadable.

"You know what I mean." The annoying thing was that he did know what he meant. And he hated it. "Go get your girl," John quipped after long minutes of strenuous silence and Max stood, nodding. He was halfway out the door when John called to him again. "Will you be home tonight?"

Max looked down to his toes and shook his head.

"I don't know."

John simply nodded his head.

--

_"Max, hey!" Liz said as she turned from her computer monitor, noting that her best friend was hovering outside the window to her bedroom. Standing, she motioned him in and moved around the room to try and clear some of the mess. "What are you doing here?"_

The question sounded harsher than she meant but considering she hadn't seen or heard from him in the two weeks since he'd walked in on her changing, he couldn't exactly expect anything else.

"I..." He said but trailed off, his hand rising to tug at his ear in a move so endearingly familiar to Liz that she felt her anger dissipate quickly. At eighteen years old, Max Evans had lost his boyish features and embraced manhood but while most of the other girls in their senior class threw themselves at him, Liz could still only see the boy she'd beat up in the sand pit of their kindergarten class. "I have to tell you something, Liz," he said eventually as he moved around her room, fingering different objects, lingering in front of photos to laugh and shake his head.

She stepped in front of him when he continued his wanderings, arching her brow. She put a hand on his chest and pushed him back until he sat on the edge of her bed, his fingers entwined tightly between his knees. As she took a seat next to him, she reached out to brush the hair from his face; two months ago, Max had decided to ditch his short hair for a loner style as well as his loose fitted button downs and replaced them with fitted tees that hugged his body perfectly; it was a look that worked well for him, she noted as she took in his black Nirvana tee and his dark fitted jeans.

"What is it, Max?" She asked, concern lacing her voice as she reached between his legs for his hands to try and pry them apart. "What's wrong?"

He laughed lightly, incredulously and ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick out in places; she smiled at that.

"I can't..." He took another breath to steady himself but Liz didn't turn to him, didn't try to pressure him. This was Max, he would tell her when he was ready. She waited for nearly five minutes, her fingers stroking over his palm in an effort to calm him down before he turned to her fully, taking both her hands in his, staring at her nose. "I'm gay."

Liz hesitated for only a second before she smiled and let out an airy laugh, tugging her hands away from his.

"Yeah, right, Max," she said as she rolled her eyes and turned away from him. "If you didn't want to tell me you could have just –"

"No, Liz," he interrupted her and held onto her shoulders, turning her to him. "I mean it." He gulped and she could see his Adam's apple rise and fall, the fear in his face, the uncertainty in his eyes.

"You're serious?" She asked quietly, her voice dropping so low she was sure he wouldn't have heard her. He nodded and her lips involuntarily formed an 'O' and she tried a few times for breath.

"Liz?" He said when the moment stretched on too long and she could see the pain flash across his face at the thought of her rejection, could feel his fingers loosening their hold on her and she fought against her disbelief to reach out to him, to reassure him but the words wouldn't come.

Instead, she reached out with her arms and drew his shaking body to hers, enveloping him as much as she could into her arms.

"Are you sure?"

She instantly berated herself for the ridiculous question; of all the things she could have said, she chose _**that**__. Way to go Liz._

Instead of the annoyance she had feared, he simply laughed lightly into her neck and nodded, his arms around her tightening.

"Yep."

She pulled back slightly and eyed him, pursing her lips as she perused his form.

"How do you know?" She asked and she cursed her scientific mind for overriding her heart's desire to ask something – _**anything **__– other than that._

His smile reassured her that her question was welcome and she felt herself relax in his embrace slightly.

"I made out with a guy at a party." He shrugged nonchalantly and Liz scrunched up her nose in mock distaste even as her fingers rubbed soothing circles in his bicep. "I liked it." He shrugged again. "I also made out with a girl and I didn't like it; haven't for a very long time." Liz sighed dramatically and flopped onto her bed, her hair fanning out around her as she did so. He laughed as he crawled up beside her, lying on his front as he looked down at her. "What is it?"

She turned to him and looked up at his face, noting the first signs of happiness she'd been missing for some time. She reached out with her hand and stroked his cheek, pursing her lips as she inspected his face, her thumb finding its way across his lips and she was sure she heard his faint gasp but brushed it aside.

"It's such a shame," she said eventually, candidly, as she withdrew her hand and closed her eyes before she could see his confused smile. "You were turning into quite the handsome young man."

He laughed at that and the bed moved as he let his head fall beside hers and she wiggled closer to him as he slid his arm around her waist.

"You're just going to have to come up with another way to fulfil your fantasies, Lizzie," he said humorously as his fingers skimmed over her sides, eliciting a shriek of giggles from her. "Gay men don't marry their best friends."

Liz turned to him with her eyebrow raised and an indignant look on her face.

"And who said I wanted to marry you?" She asked lightly, pushing at his shoulder as he smirked down at her.

"Who wouldn't?" She rolled her eyes and slid out from underneath him, pulling her tee shirt over her head as she went. "What are you doing?" She heard him ask and she turned back to him with an innocent smile pasted over her lips.

She shrugged as she unclipped her bra and tossed it onto the table beside the door.

"Going for a shower," she said innocently as she flashed him a bit of skin. She could see his dumb struck expression and she laughed at it. "You're gay, Max." She shrugged and he conceded with a nod as she slid in behind her bathroom door. "Besides," she said as she popped her head back around the door jamb, a crooked smile across her lips, "you've seen me naked before."

As she shut the door behind her, she laughed as he yelled,

"Yeah, well I wasn't gay then!"

Before she stepped under the shower, she could have sworn she heard him curse before the water drowned out any other sounds.


	4. Scene IV

**Part Four  
**_"I like to play the alpha male from time to time."_

Liz wanted to kill Max. She really did. She really would have no qualms about stringing him up from the rafters and leaving him there overnight. It was not the first time he had put her in this position with John and although Max was her best friend, she'd grown close to John over the years too.

And as they sat at breakfast in a small cafe near John's salon, she could feel those years of closeness slipping away. He barely spoke to her, didn't look at her and didn't offer to share his fry up breakfast with her, nor take bites of her pancakes and fruit salad. She knew he was mad, she could tell from the firm set of his jaw but she didn't know what else to do.

Max was her best friend.

She sighed and dropped her fork to her plate and watched as John flicked his eyes up to her before looking away again, cutting up his sausage with a knife so blunt she was sure a spoon would do a better job. She reached for her glass of juice and took a sip, watching him over the rim of her glass, watched as he chewed and studiously avoided her eyes.

"John..." she said some long minutes later and she could see him flinch. "I'm sorry."

John sighed and closed his eyes before leaning back in his chair, and pinning her with a stare. She tried not to wince at the glare. He watched her for a long moment, his eyes scouring her face and she tried not to look away.

Eventually he shrugged and picked up his fork, spinning it in his hands.

"You and Max have been friends for years," he said and Liz nodded absently, knowing that he didn't need her to speak. "You protect one another." He looked up to Liz and she nodded, her eyes downcast but she glanced up when she felt his breath on her face. He reached out and covered her hand with his, his face almost pleading with her to understand. "You don't have to protect him from me."

Liz shrank back in her chair at his words; she knew she didn't have to protect Max from John but it was almost instinctive to protect him from just about anything. She didn't know if it was a good thing.

"I know," she said to John, hoping her tone was lighter than she felt and she saw him lift a disbelieving eyebrow in her direction. She shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes, smiling self-consciously over at him. She met his eye and noted the serious stare there and she bit her lip, trying to keep the nervous bubble of laughter in. John hated it when she laughed at times like this but it was either that or jump up and down and tell them to sort it all out on their own. She had found, the hard way, that that didn't necessarily work. She sighed and leaned back in the chair, letting her head drop back onto the tacky red vinyl. "I'm not protecting him from you, John," she said lowly, her eyes not meeting his.

She could hear John's sigh of annoyance but she didn't flinch. She had nothing to add to the statement.

"Who are you protecting him from?"

Liz quirked half a smile and slowly pulled herself forward in her chair, leaning heavily on her elbows.

"Himself."

John furrowed his brow at her as he mirrored her pose and she wondered for a moment if he was mocking her.

"Liz..."

"No," she held up a hand to stave off his comments. "You either talk to him or give him space – just don't put me in the middle of it."

John let out an angry breath and pulled back from her, crossing his arms over his chest and glared at her.

"You put yourself in the middle of it when you let him stay at yours instead of sending him home."

Liz scoffed.

"And what am I? His mother?" John continued to glare at her and she shook her head, pushing her plate away from her from lack of anything better to do. "I didn't ask him to stay."

John pursed his lips and unfolded his arms, brushing his palms across his jean clad thighs. Eventually, he sighed and dropped his head into his hands, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. When he looked up, his cow licks were sticking out on end and then some and Liz couldn't help the endearing smile that stole across her lips.

John really was attractive.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his hand covering hers again. "Forgive me?"

Liz debated for a moment, laughing lightly as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

"I suppose so," she said quietly as she watched his eyes. In the fluorescent light, his eyes almost looked green, the gold flecks completely obliterated by the brightness. She didn't know which look she preferred. "But only because I'm putting my hair in your hands."

He smiled wickedly and Liz grinned, flagging the waitress down as she did so.

"Oh, you are going to love what I'm going to do to you, Parker."

Liz couldn't help the thrilled shiver that run down her spine.

--

"What has he done to your hair?"

Liz spun quickly at the sound of friend's voice and let herself be enveloped in the open arms of Maria DeLuca. While Max was her best friend, Maria came an incredibly close second. Liz had known Maria almost all of her life; Maria's mother used to leave a six year old Maria in Jeff and Nancy Parker's care when she went out of town to sell her alien paraphernalia to unsuspecting tourist traps and the two children had been friends ever since.

While Maria was eclectic and as much of a hippy as a person could be in the twenty first century, Liz never tired of her even when Liz was at her lowest point Maria was the one who could pick her back up with a quick rendition of her latest dealings with that week's hapless male companion.

When she pulled back, Maria quickly pawed at Liz's head, measuring up her new hair style as though it was one of the pieces of art hanging from the wall. John's promise that she would love what he was going to do to her had not been unfulfilled and her only regret was that he hadn't been able to accompany her home so he could help her coif it to the same level of perfection he had. The cut was shorter than she'd had it in many years, skimming her collar bone with a thick, long side fringe cut in. He'd insisted on a few highlights to bring out her natural colour and Liz had relented after much convincing.

She was very glad she had because when she looked in the mirror, she could hardly believe the head of hair was hers.

"Do you like it?" She asked Maria after long minutes had passed where her friend had simply stared at pawed and stared some more.

"Like it?" Maria said, her voice high-pitched. "It's gorgeous!" Liz felt a blush creep up her neck at the compliment but she smiled through it even as she reached up to finger the short strands. "He never does anything this good to me."

Liz quirked a smile at that.

"Maybe because you don't let him?"

Maria eyed Liz at her comment, her eyes narrowing good naturedly and Liz laughed, lifting the glass of champagne to her lips.

"Maybe I will now... God Liz," she murmured as she continued to touch Liz's hair, "It really suits you."

Liz smiled.

"Thanks."

"And here he is, the man of the hour," Maria said as Michael approached them.

Liz eyed him as he approached, smiling at the less-than-formal jeans and tee shirt combination that he wore with a suit jacket thrown over the top at an attempt to 'dress it up'. As she felt that age old tingle, she conceded that it worked.

"I'm glad you guys could make it," he said modestly as he took first Maria then Liz in his arms, adorning them both with kisses to the cheek. Liz remembered her high school crush on the 'bad boy' and how his lips on her cheek would have once made her swoon. Thankfully, she had gotten over it and had gained a life long friend in the process. "What do you think?"

Michael had only discovered his passion for art two years before they graduated high school and his grades in other classes had held him back from going to college to learn his trade. It hadn't stopped him though and, seven years later, he'd finally been discovered on a large scale and the local gallery had bought almost all of his paintings and were selling them off.

"They're great, Michael," Liz said happily, handing her empty glass to a waiter as he passed, while Michael took three fresh glasses from another. "I'm really proud of you," she said as she laid her hand on his arm.

He turned to her and met her eye and Liz saw something kindling in his eye, something warm and happy and she smiled up at him, not concealing the proud smile that stole across her lips.

"Have you sold any yet?" Maria asked and Michael glanced easily away from Liz to Maria and Liz took the opportunity to study the room. She could see a few journalists milling around, a few of her students and a couple of mutual friends she would need to say hi to later.

"A few and it's still early."

There was no denying the excitement in Michael's tone and Liz was truly happy for him. He'd struggled for years since he left high school, working any jobs he could find while trying to fund his painting addiction. It hadn't been easy but he'd made it and Liz was more than proud.

"Why would I buy one when I can get them for free?" Maria asked, scandalled but Michael simply shook his head and walked away, waving goodbye to them over his shoulder. "God," she said quietly and Liz turned to her questioningly. "He's so hot." She fanned herself as she walked away and Liz was left, smiling bemusedly as her friend made her way to the bathroom.

He huffed; Michael and Maria.

Who ever would have guessed?

--

He spotted her from across the room and smiled. The tunic dress she wore was one Max had coerced her into buying and he was glad; the short length and the metallic studs were very 'in' right now and if she had looked great in it in the changing room, she looked stunning now in her platform courts.

The hair was pretty cool too, he admitted grudgingly as he made his way over to her through the crowd, stopping a few times to say hello to a few people he knew. He hated these things but Michael was like a brother to him and there was no way he could have gotten out of coming even if he'd wanted to.

As he approached Liz, he saw she was speaking to someone he'd seen her with a few times; the guy worked with her (or something) and if the way he was leaning into her arm was anything to go by, the guy was a jerk.

"Hey beautiful," Max said to her as he slid his arm around her waist and drew her into his side. When she turned to him, her eyebrows raised, he pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of her lips and smiled as he pulled back.

"Max," she said lightly, her hand coming to rest on his abdomen as she smiled falsely up at him. "This is Eli Weekley," she motioned to her companion, "Eli, this is Max Evans."

The man eyed Max from head to toe as Max did the same; the guy was cute Max admitted, with his Chad Michael Murray hair style and baby blue eyes.

He was no patch on Soren though and Max knew Liz could very well be substituting this almost-clone for the real thing.

"Nice to meet you," Max said as he thrust his hand out and waited for the other man to shake it. "Liz, shouldn't we be going to meet Kyle?" Liz frowned up at him and he raised his eyebrows in a not-so-subtle way and Liz nodded. "He's over there," he said as he pointed in the general direction of the bar – where Kyle was not. As Liz said her goodbyes and walked away, Max spun back to the man in front of him, gripping him by the elbow as he made to move away. "Were you trying to get in her pants?"

Eli, for his part, looked stunned at Max's abruptness but his surprise quickly melted into indignation and he tried to pull his arm away from Max.

"What's it to you?" Eli demanded and Max tightened his hold on the man, pulling him nearer.

"Don't tempt me."

"And what are you? Her keeper?"

Max released Eli's elbow with a not-so-gentle shove and walked away. After three steps he paused and turned back, seeing Eli still standing there staring at Max's retreating form;

"Yeah. I am."

As he walked away, he could have sworn he heard Eli mutter a curse under his breath.

"Max what was that?" Liz asked as she sprung from the crowd and Max looked down at her startled. "You shouldn't have done that, Max, we were just talking."

Max shrugged and guided her to the bar with a hand at the small of her back.

"I know," he said lightly, turning to her with a quick smile, "but I like to play the alpha male every now and again."

Liz rolled her eyes and swatted his arm as he ordered them two vodka and orange. He'd been at the agency in the afternoon and had missed her return and when he'd got back, she'd already left. It was strange for him sometimes how little thought he put into sharing a house – a bed – with Liz. He remembered when he was fifteen and he'd hesitantly asked her if he could kiss her. He'd thought then he would spend the rest of his life with her.

And his thoughts hadn't really changed – it was just her role in his life that was different. Instead of his wife and mother of his children, she was his best friend and his rock.

"You know," she said from beside him and he blinked, focussing his thoughts back on the here and now, "I saw this card today." Max lifted an eyebrow and sipped from his drink. "It said 'What is a husband? He's a man you love very much and also your best friend.'" She turned to him and he saw the familiar twinkle in her eye and he was laughing even before she said the words. "Does that make you my husband, Max?"

He lifted his fingers to her face and stroked her cheek, marvelling at the softness of her skin. He traced his thumb over her lip and revelled in the way her breath hitched on his skin at the contact.

"I'll be your husband if you want, Liz," he said lowly as he drew her head up to his, resting his nose against her cheek, "so long as you promise not to be my wife."

She pulled away, laughing before dropping her head to his shoulder. His arms came around her automatically and he scanned the crowds as his fingers kneaded the muscles in her lower back.

"God Max," she said, her own voice equally as low as his had been moments before. "I'm so horny."

Max grinned and dipped his lips to her ear, breathing hot air over the sensitive skin at the back of her neck. She shivered and her grip in his arm tightened and he smiled.

"Since I'm your husband, Liz, I'm sure you'll let me help you with that."

She groaned and Max found his body tightening in response to vibrations. He shifted slightly but she nestled in against him and it was his turn to groan.

"Stop teasing me, Max, it's not fair."

He chuckled.

"Only if you stop teasing me." Reluctantly, she pulled back and when he looked down at her, she was pouting. He laughed at that. "What?"

"I like teasing you."

"I like teasing you too, Princess, but there's only so much I can take before I pin you to the bar and do something to you I'm sure neither of us really want me to do."

Liz scrunched up her face in distaste and Max simply raised a knowing eyebrow. He loved their teasing banter; he knew that many of their friends disapproved but it was the way him and Liz had always been and he didn't see why they needed to change now that they were both in relationships; Soren knew Max was gay and to Max, that was the end of it. If the other guy couldn't handle it, then he wasn't right for Liz.

"Is John here?" Liz asked quietly, some time later and Max tensed at the mention of his boyfriend's name. He'd stopped by the salon on his way to the agency but John hadn't wanted to speak to him. Max shrugged at the thought much like he had at the time; if that's how he wanted to play it, that's what he'd get.

"No," he said shortly, hoping Liz would drop it.

Liz sighed.

"So I'm relegated to no phone sex again tonight?"

Max turned to her and raised an eyebrow.

"And how is that?" She rolled her eyes and sipped from her drink. "I told you, Liz, I'll be your hands if you want."

He waggled his eyebrows but she simply stared at him, her expression blank for long moments before the smile cracked across her lips.

"You're an ass."

"I can be your ass."

"Go get laid."

"You go get laid."

"That was pathetic," she said archly, her eyebrow raised high on her forehead. "You're incorrigible when you're horny."

"And you're hot when you're horny."

Liz laughed and moved away from him to an empty bench in the middle of the gallery. When he sat beside her, she slid her hand onto his thigh dangerously close to his crotch and he closed his eyes at the warmth of her fingers through his suit trousers.

"And you said I was incorrigible."

Liz simply laughed.


	5. Scene V

Part Five

"I don't think I want to be with John anymore."

Liz looked up from her laptop and stopped typing, slipping the lid back on her pen. The words, though not entirely unexpected, still shocked her. She glanced away from his downturned eyes and saved her work, closing her laptop over. She took a breath before looking back up at him and patting the space on the bed beside her.

"Why not?" She asked when he sat, cross legged, beside her, his fingers fisted tightly into his palm. She watched as he shrugged, his head tilting away from her and she reached out to still his nervous fluttering. She wasn't used to Max like this; she'd not dealt with this side of Max for years. "Tell me, Max."

He sighed and slid up the bed, resting his head against the propped up pillows. He blew air through his cheeks, puffing them up slightly before blowing it out into the air around him.

"I just don't feel it anymore." Liz knew that the words, spoken so nonchalantly, hurt him to say. But she didn't reach out again, didn't turn to him as he fidgeted, as he stole a hand through his already ruffled hair, as he tugged on the sheet covering her mattress. "And I haven't for a very long time."

She turned to him then, her fingers ghosting over his shin and she saw his eyes flutter to hers for a moment before they concentrated on a spot just past her shoulder.

"Why haven't you said to him already?"

Max shrugged and looked up at her with guilty eyes that had Liz narrowing her own in return.

"I've wanted to." He looked away again. "But you know what John is like." He shrugged and Liz found the gesture was beginning to grate on her nerves. "And besides, I wouldn't have anywhere to live if I wasn't with him."

Liz narrowed her eyes at that, instantly feeling her anger dissipate. She reached out to touch his arm but he flinched from the contact. He tried to pretend it didn't sting.

"That's what you're worried about?" He nodded and Liz narrowed her eyes at him. He trained his vision on the far wall, his hands ringing together in his lap. She felt a pang resonate across her heart and she wished she knew what to say. "That's ridiculous," she said, the words harsher than her tone.

He turned to her and stared, his eyes surprised and wide and she couldn't stop the bubble of laughter that escaped her lips at his expression.

"This isn't funny, Liz," he said hotly, standing from the bed and Liz immediately sobered. She tried to reach out to him but he walked away from her, to the wall he'd been staring at and dropped his head against it. She watched as he breathed, his shoulders rising and falling. She wanted to go to him but she knew that he didn't need that; that he just had to sort out in his mind what his heart was trying to tell him. "I mean how fucked up is that?" She winced at his words but didn't reply. "I'm more worried about the money factor than breaking up with him." He banged his head against the wall. "Fuck."

Liz stood and moved towards him, her hands stretched out to touch his back. His shoulder was tense beneath her grasp. She stood at his arm, her fingers kneading the muscles at his neck and she felt his head loll to the side slightly. She looked up and met his eyes, lamenting the sadness she saw there.

"Max..." She didn't know what to say. Instead, she slid her arm across his chest and pressed herself against his side. After a moment, she felt his arm slide around her waist, drawing her closer to him. She heard him sigh, the warmth of his breath heating her neck for a moment. "You know," she said after long minutes. "Soren asked me to move in with him."

Max pulled back from her slightly and she looked up to his querying face.

"You told me." She nodded and glanced away, past his shoulder and bit the inside of her lip. "You also told me you said no."

"I did."

"Okay...?"

She looked back up to him but didn't say anything for a few moments. She could see the question in his eyes and she wondered at the sanity of what she was thinking.

"I could move in with Soren and you could move in here."

"Liz, no."

"Yes, Max – it makes sense."

"No, Liz it doesn't."

She pulled away from him and pushed an agitated hand through her hair. She moved back to the bed and sat down, worrying her nail with her teeth. Max knelt in front of her and she reached out and took his proffered hand.

"You told me you didn't want to move in with Soren." Liz nodded and looked away from the heavy stare. "I won't let you move in with his so I can stay here." He looked around the room and she laughed as she saw the thoughtful look on his face. "I couldn't afford it anyway."

Liz raised her eyebrow at that and conceded. While she wasn't rich, she made more money than Max. Her apartment was a one bedroom studio and it still cost her an arm and a leg in monthly rent. Soren had told her it wasn't worth it but it was her home and she couldn't imagine living anywhere else.

She sighed and dropped her head to Max's shoulder, welcoming him into her loose embrace.

"You could move in here."

"And where would you sleep?" He asked lightly and she chuckled.

"You can't stay with someone because of money, Max." She felt him stiffen in her arms and she drew back slightly. "If you really think you can't make it work, then you need to tell him. It's not fair – he loves you."

"I love him too."

"But...?"

He shrugged.

"I don't want to be with him."

"Then you have to tell him that." He made to protest but she held her fingers to his mouth. She felt his tongue tickle her skin but she narrowed her eyes at him and he heaved a sigh.

"You can stay here for a while until we figure something out." He looked up at her, gratitude shining in his eyes and she felt her anger dissipating. "You have to tell him, Max."

"I know."

He made no move to get up and Liz stroked the hair at his temple before pulling him back with her onto the bed. He nestled into her embrace, his head on her breast and Liz felt his breath through her thin tee shirt.

"You're beautiful, Liz, have I ever told you that?"

She looked down to him, startled but humbled. She could feel heat rise in her cheeks and she pressed her hand against his head, letting her lips drop to brush across his skin.

"Thank you."

He leaned up and she met his eyes, the smile on his face and she returned it. He dropped his forehead to hers and brushed their noses together before pressing his lips chastely to hers.

"Thank you."

--

_Sitting in the CrashDown, Liz twirled strands of spaghetti around her fork as she stared out the window to the blazing desert heat beyond. Across from her, Maria DeLuca continued to talk, her incessant ramblings on Max's 'coming out' filtering across Liz's mind._

"Do you want to have kids, Liz?"

Startled, Liz turned back to Maria and smiled, confused.

"Eventually, yeah."

Maria nodded and looked to her plate, thoughtful. Liz turned back to the window, to the people milling about on the street. She had biology homework to do, chemistry as well and she knew she would need to get started soon. Her English paper was due at the end of the week and she had to study for her finals.

She'd heard back from NYU and Harvard – had been accepted already by both but she didn't want to fail her exams. She had a need for perfection, to attain and while her dream was within reach, she still didn't want to disappoint herself, or her family.

"I always imagined you and Max getting married and having kids."

Liz turned back to Maria and smiled, laying her fork on the side of her plate. She looked past Maria's head, to Max sitting with Isabel and their parents at the bar and felt, for the first time since Max's confession of his sexuality, a pang in her chest.

There were some dreams she would never attain.

She glanced back to her plate and smiled ruefully, not missing the confused stare of Maria.

"So did I, Maria. So did I."


	6. Scene VI

**Part Six**

The morning sunlight filtered through the half open blinds and Max groaned into the pillow. The lingering scent of stale sweat and regurgitated alcohol filled his nostrils as he breathed in and he scrunched his nose up in disdain. His hair was matted to his temples and forehead, the skin on his arms and chest sticky with spilled beer and God knows what else. He groaned again and rolled onto his back, his arms flailing on either side of him, impacting with empty air.

For a moment, he was startled.

Then his eyes focussed and he realised he was in Liz's room, not the room of the stranger he'd met in the bar last night.

He turned onto his side and drew her pillow to him, pulling in the scent of her, even as his stomach rolled. He closed his eyes against the dizzying sensation of movement and licked his dry lips, knowing he needed a drink but knowing he couldn't move to get it.

He called out, his voice hoarse in the empty room but there was no answer. He groaned again and called out once more but silence resonated. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, watching as a cobweb blew back and forth in a breeze he could not feel. Liz obviously hadn't seen it or else she'd have been out with the vacuum, scooping up the spider and its home without so much as a moment's hesitation.

He burped, the smell of half digested chicken pakora lingering in his mouth and he gagged, the scent turning his stomach more.

As he drew the covers back over his head, he swore that he was never drinking again.

--

_"Max," John said, his tone surprised as he held the door to their apartment open. "This is a surprise."_--

Max shrugged slightly, huddling against the cool fall wind that wafted up the lobby from the open window. His hair was windswept and his eyes were stinging and he knew he looked a riot but he didn't care; after his talk with Liz, he hadn't been able to get John off his mind and he knew that he had to see him, just to know.

And now he knew.

"Can I...?" He asked as he motioned the apartment and John shook his head, snapping from his stupor and stepped back, allowing Max passage into their hall. Max couldn't help but sniff at John's scent, so familiar and welcoming. So suffocating. "Thanks," he said as he sat on the worn brown leather sofa, his hands clasping and unclasping in his hands.

"It's your apartment, too." Max shrugged and drew a hand through his hair, pulling at the small tug the wind had caused. He couldn't met John's eyes because he knew that if he did, that would be it – that he'd be sucked back in and not do what he'd come here to do. "Max?"

Max made the mistake of looking up and he was struck by the way the sunlight cast half of John's angular face in shadow, the other side glowing gold in the rays that licked it. His hair, normally flicked naturally in all directions, lay flat and matted to his head, his beard unshaven for days.

He'd never looked better.

"John..."

"Shit." Max didn't say anything, only stared up at him, trying not to see all the things that had attracted to him in the first place. "Shit," John repeated, though weaker, as he threw himself onto the oversized armchair in the corner. Max watched as he drew his hand across his face, through his hair, to the nape of his neck before his slate grey eyes peered up at him. "I knew this was coming."

"John..."

"Don't," John said as he held up his hand in protest, palm out towards him and Max winced at the nail marks there. "Just tell me the truth."

"About what?"

"About why you're leaving me."

Max sighed and looked away, to the television in the corner, to the photos on the stand but in the things he knew he found no comfort. He saw only reminders of how much he'd failed, of all the things that John had bought for them, of all the things that he could have said and did before. John had tried to build them a home; Max had tried to quench a thirst.

"It's not that I don't love you-"

"Save the shit, Max."

Max flinched, blanching slightly at the cruelty in John's tone but he knew that it was just, that he deserved it.

It was more than he deserved.

"I do I'm just not... I'm just not here, in the same place – as you." The line sounded bad, even to his own ears. He grimaced at it, chancing a glance to John who simply glared at him. "I'm not happy – you make me not happy. When I'm with you I want to be... I want to not be with you. When you try and touch me, I find a reason to move away. When I tell you I love you, I have to force myself to kiss you on the lips – and I shouldn't be like that, not with someone I'm supposed to love."

Max could see John's jaw clench, could see the way his eyes had slid to darkness and he knew that he was irrevocably burning bridges with the only man he had loved. It hurt. It was also kind of liberating.

"I can't say that I haven't noticed. I wish I hadn't – God I wish I hadn't but how could I not?"

"I'm sorry," Max said pathetically, looking to the floor.

"What for?" Max looked up, confused and after a moment he shrugged. "If you don't know what you're apologising for, how can you expect others to?" Max shrugged again, not knowing what to say. He wasn't very good at this. "The thing is, I don't even think you realise it."

"Realise what?"

John scoffed and pointed a gestured towards him and Max frowned, feeling anger replace his guilt.

"You see?" Max shook his head and rose, John following suit, rushing around the coffee table to stand in front of him. Max looked up to him, John's slight height advantage making Max feel inadequate in a way it never had before. "Did you ever love me Max?"

Max felt a rush of anger and he scoffed incredulously, using his bigger body mass to push past John, knocking John off balance.

"There's someone else isn't there?" John shouted down the hallway and Max stopped, pivoting on his heel and stared at John through the doorway and he felt the blood thunder through his veins.

"Of course there isn't."

"Where are you staying Max?"

Max was thrown by the swift change of subject and he took a step back towards the lounge.

"With Liz." John smirked, quirking half his mouth and Max frowned, clenching his jaw. "What?"

"You could never love anyone the way you love her."

Max reeled back, his fists rising from his side before he managed to control them. He didn't say anything as John watched him, almost goading, staring one another down across the lounge.

"I'm going to get laid."

He slammed the door as he left.

Liz yawned as she drew some of the solution into the pipette, dribbling a few droplets onto the worktop. She sighed and closed her eyes, sliding the pipette back into the beaker of solution, wondering why she had chosen to take the call that morning.

Usually, she didn't mind being hired out to the local high schools for the day but she'd had little to no sleep the night before with Max stampeding about her apartment, burning pizza topped with chicken pakora and then snoring like a freight train when he had eventually tumbled into bed.

She kind of wished he'd gone home with someone like he'd told her he would when he called.

Her tiredness didn't make her mood any better; she was still horny as hell, her fingers delivering little to no pleasure to her the night before after her and Soren's rendezvous over thousands of miles of static air and she found herself become increasingly frustrated.

When Max had interrupted her phone sex with his incessant ringing of her mobile, she'd let out a stream of expletives down the line to him, only to realise he wasn't paying attention. She knew this because she could hear clearly the sound of him making out with someone in a very noisy, public place. When she'd hung up from Soren and called him back almost an hour later, he'd told her that he was going to fuck the hottest man ever to have bought him a drink – _John? She'd asked _– who wasn't John. He'd told her that John was an asshole and wasn't his problem anymore.

And when he'd stumbled, not-so-stealthily – his chatter to himself in an attempt to silence his blabbering mouth would have been endearing if it hadn't been four thirty in the morning – down her hallway to the kitchen four hours later, before breaking down in tears, Liz had comforted him.

She may have also let him feel her up – _just a little _- to help make him feel better. Because it was, after all, her fault he hadn't pulled. Because she'd called him and he couldn't stop thinking about her. And he needed her. More than John. Always more than anyone else.

The words, spoken to her in a drunken slur as tears she was sure he was unaware of slid down his cheeks, warmed her heart and ached her stomach. If only he'd said those words to her years before, when he hadn't been gay and she hadn't stopped loving him like that, she knew that things would have turned out very differently.

She'd have had her heart broken, for sure, some years later when his true sexuality had eventually come out, for starters.

But then she'd have known what it was like to be with him. And she didn't. In her head, she wasn't sure she wanted to anymore. But when she'd let him fall asleep with his fingers grazing her backside, her body knew it did.

She hated that betrayal.

"Miss?"

Liz looked up, flushed, to the young girl in front of her and smiled.

"Yes, Briana?"

The girl looked quizzically to Liz for a moment before glancing quickly to the others in the group and looking back to Liz.

"We're making vitamin C." Liz nodded and looked to the group as they flicked gazes at one another. "You just added copper to the solution."

Liz looked down to the chemicals in front of her, noting the Fe and her shoulders sagged. She closed her eyes and sighed.

Soren had to come home.

And soon.


	7. Scene VII

**Chapter Seven  
**"Things have changed... _he's_ changed."

Over a cup of coffee, Liz watched Maria fidget with her phone. Maria's nervous habits were something that, over the years, Liz had gotten used to. But sometimes, like now, when Liz wanted nothing more than to talk, Maria's inane fidgeting grated on her nerves and she found herself losing her tether with her friend. She reached out quickly, grabbing onto the phone and almost slammed it into the hard surface.

"Oh-_kay_," Maria said slowly, indignantly and Liz felt a little bad. "I'm going to pretend that you didn't just slam my three hundred dollar cell phone into the table," she continued with raised eyebrows. "I am, however, going to assume that something is bothering me and that your random act of violence was a symbol of this – yes?" Liz nodded after a moment, trying to hide the amused smile on her face. "Care to share?"

Liz looked away from her friend, to the images moving across the screen. At this time of night, the soap operas consumed network television and unless one was willing to have their brain melted by the ridiculousness of some of the shows, it was best to watch in mute if the need to watch at all occurred. Max had gone out somewhere before Liz had returned from work but she didn't question it; he had his own life – he was simply living it out of her apartment now.

"Max moved in with me," she said quickly, quietly into her coffee mug in hopes that Maria didn't hear her.

"Excuse me, could you repeat that because it sounded an awful lot like you just said Max moved in with you." Liz nodded mutely and turned to Maria slightly. "Are you _insane_?" Liz laughed, grateful for the humour. But then Maria shook her head, holding her hand up. "You have to be. Where is he going to sleep? What were you think- what about his apartment? What about _John_?"

Liz rolled her eyes.

"He sleeps on the couch, Maria – like he does every other time he stays. It's only until he finds a place of his own."

"He can't _afford_ a place of his own."

"Exactly!" Liz retorted vehemently, her own arguments voiced through Maria's mouth. "I'm not exactly going to let my best friend sleep on the streets, am I?"

Maria rolled her eyes at that, amused.

"And they say _I'm_ the dramatic one." Liz smiled, glad of the reprieve from the insane speech. She sipped her cooling coffee and prodded the slice of chocolate cake on the plate beside her, not hungry. She felt Maria's hand on her knee and she turned to her friend, curious. "Liz... don't take this the wrong way but..." she shook her head and looked away, struggling for the words, piquing Liz's interest. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"What do you mean?"

Maria shrugged, her face contorting as she thought and Liz felt something in the pit of her stomach.

"Things with you and Max are..." Maria tapered off and Liz felt the familiar anger flare but she tried to quell it. "Different."

"No they're not, Maria."

"Yes they are. It's not... the things you say to one another-"

"It's playful, Maria. It's teasing, banter – you may have heard of it?"

"It's not playful, Liz. It used to be but it's not anymore and you know it. That's why you've kept the fact that Max has been staying her for almost a week from me." Liz's eyes widened at that. Maria had known. "You know things are different and you told me because you either feel guilty for betraying Soren, or because you needed my opinion because you weren't sure it's a good idea which means that something has happened, or that you sense something could happen and you're trying to decide whether you need to have a failsafe-"

"Maria-"

"No, Liz." Maria held up her hand to stem Liz's flow of words and Liz drew back slightly, startled. "We've sat back and watched this... this thing with Max and now this?" Maria shook her head. "Does Soren know?" Liz hesitated, neither affirming nor denying and when Maria's eyebrow rose on her forehead, Liz knew she was busted. "Because you know he'd have a problem with it." Liz nodded, though it wasn't a question. "Does he have a reason to have a problem with it?"

Liz sighed, exasperated, setting her cup down on the side table. She scrubbed a hand through her hair, tugging at the roots but it did no good to ease her inner conflict. Maria was right, to some extent. She _hadn't _told Soren. But not because she felt guilty (well, not really, anyway) – Soren had never approved of her relationship with Max; he'd always thought Max's sexuality was just a cover so he could get close to Liz.

"If this was anyone else, then yes," Liz reasoned allowed to Maria's disbelieving ears. "But this is Max, we've been friends for... forever and... and he's _gay_." Maria chortled a laugh at that and Liz mimicked her smile, though her distress was thinly veiled. She sighed and dropped her head into her hands. "Do you think he has a reason to feel... I don't know."

Liz felt Maria's hesitation and she looked up. Maria's insights – though sometimes misconstrued – were generally always astute.

"Like you said, Liz," she began, slowly, "Max's sexuality does change a lot of factors but..." She sighed and scratched the bridge of her nose with a long, manicured nail (one concession hippy Maria let herself have).

"But..." Liz continued, urging, when Maria stalled.

"But... this is you and Max." She shrugged, helpless and Liz looked away equally as helpless. "I've seen it all, Liz. I was your friend back then too." Maria made a motion with her shoulder that was half way to a shrug. "I've seen... Things are different now." She shrugged again, glancing to her fingers again. "_He's_ different."

Liz wondered how she hadn't known this.

--

Later, when Soren calls, she is subdued. His attempts to engage her in another bout of phone sex were useless and he hung up shortly after, her conversation less than stellar. He'd inquired as to her well being but she'd brushed him off – _just a bad day at work_, she'd said – and he'd accepted her answer. What else could he do, she wondered; he was half way around the world on the other end of a static phone line.

It's dark outside, but the hour is relatively early. Despite this, Liz coories down in the quilt of her bed, relishing in the warmth, drifting somewhere beneath the warm cosiness, her head cocooned on a pillow as soft as cloud and lets her body relax. Her racing mind, that had refused to stop for days, finally ceases its incessant tumult and she found that her dreams were mere fragments of memories of years gone by, visions of a future she hadn't thought of in years.

When Max slides into bed behind her, his cold feet resting on her calves, she opens her eyes for a moment, wondering if she's still dreaming.


	8. Scene VIII

**Chapter Eight**  
_What is this fire?  
Burning slowly  
My one and only.  
Desire_

She stopped and took a step back. In the small room, their heavy breathing filled the air, their bodies crowded together around the furniture. His eyes, alight with a smouldering fire, caught hers before looking away again and she took another step back until her back was almost pressed against the wall. They'd been fighting for days – ever since he'd not gone to an interview because he was hung over – and, frankly, Liz was sick of it. She'd decided they'd needed a good night out and since it was Friday, they'd gone to Octo with Maria and Michael and some others. They'd managed one dance before they were at each other's throats again.

She swept her hand through her hair and when she touched her chest above the neckline of her dress, her skin was slick with sweat and the beer she'd managed to spill over herself on the dance floor. She sighed and leaned against the wall in the private room, closing her eyes.

"What is wrong with us, Liz?" Max asked and she shook her head, not speaking. She didn't know what to say because she didn't know what was wrong. Ever since her conversation with Maria two weeks before, she'd felt something akin to guilt every time Max slid into bed behind her. Then Soren had called telling her his grandmother had finally (she cringed at the wording) and that he would be home 'sometime soon'. She didn't know when 'soon' would be but her guilt had only risen as she thought that 'soon' – whether it was a week or a month – was too 'soon'. "Shit."

She opened her eyes and found Max leaning against the other wall with his back to her, head resting on his arms as they leaned against the wall. The black shirt was drawn tight across his back and she could see the well defined muscles bunching beneath the material and felt something stir inside of her. It had been far too long since she'd had sex.

"Yeah," she whispered, the sound barely heard over the pounding music that still managed to seep through the walls.

Max turned, leaning against the wall, to look at her. His hair was mussed and his eyes were dark and she had to glance away. Her eyes landed on his neck and she saw his carotid artery pushing against his skin in a rhythmic staccato and she closed her eyes again. She would admit, quietly to herself, that she'd been having those thoughts about Max again. She hadn't had them for years but since she'd woken up with his morning erection pressed against her back, she'd been dreaming and day dreaming, consciously thinking of ways she might be able to slide him inside of her without 'meaning' to. She wasn't sure if it was Max that she was thinking about because, in her fantasies, she could – with some thought – imagine it to be Soren instead but when she could smell Max and feel his legs wrapped around hers, it was him who consumed her thoughts.

"I can't lose you, too, Liz."

Liz looked to him again, stepping towards him. She reached out and her fingers brushed the hairs on the back of his arms and she smiled up to him, somewhat sadly.

"You're not going to lose me, Max."

He smiled down to her, his eyes widening slightly and she smiled mirthfully back up at him.

"Good," he smirked and touched his hand to her hair, "wouldn't want to sleep on the streets." She narrowed her eyes at him and smacked him playfully on the arm. She would be forever thankful for their ability to switch from one extreme to the other. "So," he began and his eyes roved over her body, assessing.

Liz took a step back and her hand rose to her hip and she raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Well, you're wearing that dress with those shoes and we're in this room with red lights; what do you say we – ah..."

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Liz smirked, swaying on her stacked platform heels a moment before turning from him and heading to the door. There, she pressed a hand to the door and glanced back to him over her shoulder, smirking coyly.

"Me in this dress and these heels is too much for you to handle."

She didn't wait to hear his response before she practically flounced out of the door and back onto the dance floor.

Max wasn't too far behind her.

--

She bit her lip as her hands slid down her body, cradling the telephone between her cheek and shoulder. The alcohol in her system had done wonders to rejuvenate her libido and her husky voice hadn't taken long to coax Soren into some early, early morning phone sex. She'd stumbled from the taxi to her bedroom and grabbed her phone from the nightstand, letting it ring and ring until he answered.

Now, he was urging her hands lower, drawing from her gasps of pleasure, wisps of desire and her body was writhing on the sheets. Her nipples were exposed to the air, her breasts pulled free from her dress only minutes before – they were hard and stiff and when the soft flesh of the inside of her arm brushed against them, she hissed in pleasure and moaned softly as her fingers danced over her thighs. She was already wet – which she refused to accredit to the feel of Max's thigh between her legs as they'd danced hours before – and wanting and she already knew her fingers were not going to be enough to satiate her lust.

Soren's deep voice urged her on and she gasped, the blank canvas of her eyelids opening a world of fantasy to her that she had no desire to leave anytime soon. There, it was his hands on her skin alighting this fire within her, his breath on her skin that had her shivering with anticipation. She could hear his breathing from across the phone, laboured and harsh and she responded, biting the inside of her lip so as not to call out into the empty air of her apartment. Drunk or not, she still had some inhibitions left and she couldn't handle Max teasing her about her noise in the morning.

She gasped, fighting for breath as she slid one, two fingers inside of her – her own warmth like silk against her lean fingers. She whimpered as Soren ordered her to still and in her head she could hear her own breathing, echoing around the room like a horn. On the phone, she could hear Soren's ricocheting around her body and it was only when she was concentrating on being still that she heard someone else's.

She snapped her eyes open, searching the room. On the sight of him, she was caught between a scream and a moan and her eyes connected with his. In them, she could see the same fire from their fight earlier but this time she knew she had caused it. She wanted to scream at him to leave, demand to know why he thought he had the right to watch her in this intimate act but another part – a larger part – of her was indescribably turned on by his voyeurism and instead of screaming or ranting, she moaned and writhed and watched as his hips rocked against the air as he stood on the threshold looking in at her.

Soren commanded her to pump her fingers and she did, though it was Max who watched and it was Max she watched reach for his cock in his pants. She could see the slight hesitation, the shudder in his movements and his eyes rose to hers seeking the permission she had already granted him the moment she didn't shout at him. He groaned, the noise stifled only by her own and she moved with heated frenzy, her fingers – now a third – pumping in and out of her, crooking at the right point. In her ear, Soren commanded – he panted and she could imagine him doing what she was watching Max doing, their hands sliding over their cocks, aroused by the thought – and sight – of her bringing herself to climax.

Afterwards, when she was able to breathe and Soren had hung up the phone, Max was gone. She had thought him up, in her fantasy and the thought made her both smile and frown. He had seemed so real, standing there backlit by the light from the hallway. Shaking her head, she moved gasping at the sensation as she finally removed her fingers from herself.

She leaned up, contemplated cleaning herself up but conceded that she was now simply too tired and much more satiated than she had thought she would be. She leaned over to her nightstand and pulled out a wipe – usually for taking make up off – and moved to clean her still damp hands.

"Don't."

She turned to the doorway, to Max and froze. In his boxers, his cock was no longer hard but she could still see the faint hints of desire in his eyes as he moved towards her. She watched him, not breathing as he sat on the edge of the bed, his naked leg brushing hers slightly. Her skin tingled at the contact of skin and she closed her eyes for a moment when he reached for her wrist, plucked the wipe from her hand and lifted her fingers to his lips. She opened them when he paused, the question obvious in his eyes. She nodded once, almost imperceptible and she watched as his tongue snaked out, felt the warm moistness against her fingers and they both groaned at the contact. He pulled – or she pushed, neither knew – her fingers into his mouth and his tongue and lips made quick work of the evidence of her desire, eyes connected as he worked.

When he was done, he placed her hand back in her lap, his eyes darkened once more and she could feel warmth pool between her legs. They waited a moment then he reached for her dress, his fingers grazing her nipples – accidentally, she lied – as he reached for the hem of her dress, tugging it over her head. He slid his finger into her panties, righting them, and his knuckles nudged her clitoris, dragging a low groan from her. He pulled his own tee shirt over his head, leaving him naked except for his boxers and pushed her back onto the bed.

He slid in behind her, the only barrier between their skin his boxers and her thong. He slid his thigh between her legs, knee crooked, his hand splayed over her hip, the other under her neck. Within minutes, they were both asleep.


	9. Scene VIV

**Part Nine.**

When she answered the door, he wasn't exactly the first person she had expected to see. So she wasn't really surprised when he grinned cheekily at her and ran his hand over the back of his neck as she stood there, in her hot pants and pyjama top, gaping at him the glass of milk in her hand threatening to slip out of her grip.

"John," she said, astounded, taking a step back from the door but he didn't follow her in. She eyed him up and down, watching as he flinched under scrutiny and she wondered what the hell Max thought he was accomplishing by leaving the man standing before her; in his black jeans and casual black shirt with his jaw unshaven since, most likely, Max had left him, he looked delectable and Liz pondered how unfair it was that women had lost yet another one to the other side. "Hi," she said dumbly and he smiled at her, lowering his arm to his side, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Hey." He stood there, looking so very uncomfortable and Liz was both glad and annoyed that Max wasn't there to speak to him. Ever since their encounter the other night, they'd made a point of steering clear of one another.

"Umm..." she began and looked behind her into the apartment, wondering if she should invite him in – if he would come in if she did. "Max isn't here," she said instead and watched as his face fell slightly and she winced. Awkward didn't begin to cover it.

"I was hoping... It doesn't matter." She watched as he eyed her up and down, letting his eyes linger on the track tee shirt she wore, his eyes narrowing slightly, before he closed his eyes to hide the eye roll and shook his head. "Are you going to work today?" He asked instead and Liz dismissed his curious actions and nodded, motioning for him to follow her into the living room. He hesitated, she noted, but followed eventually.

"Yeah, I've got to be there for ten," she said and glanced to the clock, noting the early hour. He'd probably hoped to catch Max before he headed out to his latest posting at a school an hour train ride away. "How are you?" She asked as she moved into the kitchen where the remainders of her breakfast were and picked up the triangle of toast, nibbling at the corner, suddenly not very hungry.

She'd been up since Max had tried to move stealthily around her apartment, picking up clothes from her closet and towels from the cupboard outside her bedroom door. When he'd dropped the hairdryer and swore at it for making noise, she gave up the ghost and slid out of bed, studiously avoiding looking at his naked chest as she'd wondered past him to make coffee. They'd said little as they'd shared a cup of too strong coffee and he'd hesitated as he'd made to leave before turning and dropping a quick, chaste kiss to her cheek.

It was strangely familiar, these reactions she was having to him now. She remembered in high school, when she'd been so ridiculously attracted to him, that her stomach did the same little flips when his eyes caught hers. Now she knew it was ridiculous, despite whatever the hell that was the other day. They hadn't talked about it though she knew they both agreed that they would put it down to drunken desire if it ever arose – not that it ever would, ever.

Unfortunately.

"I'm okay, I guess," he said as he hovered at the edge of the breakfast bar, his eyes lingering on the neatly folded blankets and pillow on the couch and she wondered if he was surprised that Max was sleeping there instead of in bed with her; it had been one of those things that many people knew and never questioned. His eyes flitted to the cup she and Max had shared earlier and she wished very much that she could read his mind because his expression looked so defeated that she would bend the planets just to get him to smile at her with the crooked smile she'd come to know and love over the years. "I was just..." He shook his head and laughed, looking up to her as he bit his bottom lip between his teeth. "I'm sorry; I know this must be awkward for you."

She nodded but smiled and reached out to touch his arm.

"It's okay, I miss you," she said with feeling; and she did – they'd been good friends until Max... She shook her head. The boy was dense, she'd always known but when she looked at the sight of John before her she reconsidered how much intelligence she'd assumed he had.

"I know, I miss you too but it's just..." He waved a hand around and she smiled knowingly, removing her fingers from his arm. He smiled to her, his eyes lingering reprovingly on her hair and she grinned sheepishly. "You need to come visit me soon," he said as he ran his finger over the dark roots of her highlights then fingered the dry ends of her hair. She nodded and ducked her head; she used to take care of her hair but since Max had moved in, it seemed like she had two full time jobs instead of one and didn't have the time for luxuries like hot oil hair masks or body buffing. Max hogged the shower much more than she did. "Listen," he said eventually after a long moment of awkward silence, "I'm going to go, okay?"

She frowned, ready to protest but he held up a hand and silenced her.

"Okay," she conceded, knowing that their strained conversation would not get any easier in the next minutes. "You sure you want me to visit you?" She said with a wry smile as she moved with him to the door again.

"Of course," he said with a smile. He stopped just before the door and turned to her. "It's just... I came here with this speech and now that he's not here I just... I don't know what to say." She smiled, cringing internally for him, and hugged him back when his arms came around her shoulders stiffly. "Call me," he insisted and she nodded. He opened the door himself and was half way out before he turned to her, looked over her shirt again, his eyes lingering just over her chest and pursed his lips. "Nice shirt."

The door clicked closed and she frowned, looking down to where his eyes had lingered.

Etched into the soft, greying cotton Max's surname stood out in perfect white thread.

_"I can't believe you just puked all over your top," Max said in disgust as he held her hair back behind her head._

"It's not like I meant it," she grumbled into the toilet, batting his hands away as he tried to tie her hair back with a rubber band. "If you hadn't tried to poison me with half cooked chicken this wouldn't have happened."

He snorted and she attempted a growl but he just laughed at her feeble attempt.

"Sure, blame me," he grumbled as he disappeared.

Liz couldn't remember the last time she had been physically sick and of course it would be the night before her first proper date with the guy she'd had her eye on for a few weeks. If only Soren could see her now, she mused, her head hanging over the toilet with spatters of vomit on her shirt. She cringed, disgusted at herself and closed her eyes as her stomach rolled again. She felt Max's heat at her back, his hand rubbing what he thought was comforting circles on her back as she retched. After a few more retches, she reached up blindly to pull the plug.

"Here," Max said and out of the corner of her eye she saw a glass filled with water and she reached out to take it, smiling at him as best she could through her green gills. "I brought you a clean shirt," he said and she felt his hands at the hem of her shirt, lifting it carefully to avoid rubbing the spatters in her face. He unclipped her bra – without fumbling – and pulled the shirt over her head, laughing when he had to pick her arms up and put them through the sleeves. She was too exhausted to move; she'd been sick for almost three hours now. "There." He stood up and Liz leaned forward again, resting her head on her arms. "What do you want me to do with this one?" He said, holding her spoiled shirt away from his body, his face contorted in disgust.

"Just toss it," she replied in a whiny tone.

"You sure?" He said and she felt bad; he'd bought her the shirt for her birthday a couple of months before but she knew there was no hope of getting the stain out.

"Yeah," she said and laughed slightly, groaning when her stomach complained. "You can just buy me a new one."

He smiled and she returned it before moving to lean against the wall. He returned a few moments later, sliding down beside her, sliding his arm across her shoulders, drawing her into his side.

"I don't know if this is a wise move, Max," she complained as she closed her eyes against the dizziness that suddenly swam over her.

"You puke on me and I'll toss you out the window," he said lightly, and she felt his lips brush the top of her head.

"Thanks."

It hadn't been her idea to live on campus – but it had been her idea that if she did, they should live together. Her dad had been worried about her living alone – or with a stranger – and the fact that Max had agreed to live with her placated both Liz and her father's fears. Now, after experiencing his less than perfect food experiments once too often, she was reconsidering the decision to ever let him cook again. She sighed and relaxed further into his familiar embrace, enjoying the feel of his fingers on her arms, ghosting lightly over her skin in a gentle caress.

She heard him slightly and she turned to look up at his face but he was looking at her arm and she turned to see him fingering the sleeve of the shirt he'd given her.

"Isn't this the kind of thing a guy gives his girlfriend?" He said with a strange tone in his voice and Liz frowned her question up to him. "Giving her his track shirt, with his name on it. Seems kind of territorial, don't you think?" He said as his eyes flittered to hers for a moment and she felt the annoying catch of her breath in the back of her throat at the look in his amber eyes.

She looked away and laughed slightly, feeling a little better. She looked down to the old high school shirt he'd given her, wondering why he hadn't just went into her room and brought her one of her own shirts instead of one of his own. She laughed again when her eyes caught the 'Evans' stitched over her left breast.

"I don't know about that but I do know a guy would appreciate his name being printed over his girlfriend's boob," she said lightly and she felt Max's puff of air on her hair as he let out a soundless laugh.

"Oh to be straight," he muttered and she could practically hear his eyes roll in his tone.

"Yeah." She laughed quietly to herself. "I'll need to stitch my name to a pair of my heels and give them to you."

He bellowed out a laugh at that and she vibrated against his chest as he moved, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, right," he muttered, his lips close to her ear. "My feet are too big for your shoes, shorty."

She yawned and smiled, leaning further into him.

"I'll buy you a pair for yourself, then," she smiled again, pressing her lips to his chest through his woollen pullover.

They were silent for long minutes and she could feel the world dull around her until his voice broke through her hazy mind.

"You want to sleep here tonight?"

She nodded.

"It's probably safer."

"Okay."

She felt him shift slightly but his arms didn't release her. After a few more seconds of jostling she felt him pull something over them – a large towel – and she smiled sleepily again, turning her head into his chest as he ran his fingers over her collarbone.

"Max?" She questioned and felt him tilt his head down to her in question. "Thank you."

"Anytime."


	10. Scene X

**Part Ten**

When she woke there was an undeniable warm presence behind her that had been missing for the past week and she felt herself migrate towards it in her half sleep. The warmth grumbled and she felt a long, lean limb wrap around her waist drawing her further into the heat and she went willingly. She wriggled slightly to get comfortable in the tight embrace and she felt him grip her hip in a tight vice, holding her still and she sighed conceding and dropped her head back, feeling his chin settle above her head on the pillow and she sighed.

It turned into a sharp gasp that got caught in her throat when he shifted his hips and something _hard _pressed into her back. She groaned, loudly, and his hand automatically tightened on her waist, wrapping around her, splaying his fingers over her abdomen, pushing her butt into his very, very hard erection. She couldn't help but wriggle as the warmth migrated to more southern regions where it belonged and she felt his breath hiss out over her shoulder and she automatically wondered if he was awake. A part of her hoped he wasn't while another part hoped desperately that he was.

God, it had been so _long _and she really, really needed to have sex. The release her fingers brought her was good but it was far from satisfying _especially _when she could feel his hard cock rubbing against her butt dangerously close to the one place she wanted it. As she twitched in his grip, she knew it was wrong as thoughts of Soren waved to her on their way across her mind but this was _Max _and he was asleep – right? She reached behind her, sliding her hand into the waist band of his loose sweat pants and rubbed the back of her hand over his silken hardness. He moaned loudly and bit down on her shoulder and she shuddered as pleasure racked through her. His hand slid back to her waist, settling in the slight dip there and she wished he would move it just a little higher.

His breathing evened again quickly and she knew he was asleep. Strangely, that thought disappointed her and she let her hand linger over his throbbing member for a second longer before she withdrew her hand, tried to put some distance between them and tried to fall back into slumber, comforted by his presence in her bed again.

--

Groaning, Liz let the water cascade down her back and thought of what she had almost done in bed only hours before. Had she really actually honestly thought about giving Max a hand job in hopes that he'd reciprocate? God, she really, really needed Soren to hurry up and come back. She leaned her head on the tiles and the sensation of the hot water and cool tiles made her shiver, tightening her nipples and she reached up with her thumb and forefinger to rub them slightly, hissing as wet heat pooled between her legs. Did she really want to do this with Max lying in bed just through the door? She grunted a laugh at that, the sound strained as she fought the desire that surged through her; she'd did much worse to herself while he'd jerked himself off watching her.

Decided – not that she needed much deliberating – she ran her thumb over one nipple then the other, tugging at the hard nub with her fingers, wishing her wet finger was someone's warm tongue and she whimpered at the thought, the coil in her gut tightening. Her other hand found its way down her body, stroking up a fiery need as it meandered to her core and she teased herself, imagining fingers thicker, longer, stronger on her rather than her own and she circled her clit with her thumb hissing at the contact. She slid a finger in slowly, biting her lip to stop the whimper that threatened before she added another, needing more, and began pumping, moaning and rolling her hips in time with her fingers.

"Liz are you-" She snapped her eyes open and met Max's as he stood just inside the bathroom door, his eyes wide as he watched her but she was too far gone; to stop now would be torture and she was definitely not a masochist. "Fuck," he muttered and she screwed her eyes shut, rolling her hips faster, trying to find her voice to tell him to leave but the sound of the door closing alerted her to the fact that he'd obviously got the hint.

She almost screamed when another finger joined hers inside of her and she snapped her eyes open, panting and moaning as Max stood in front of her, his sleep sweats soaked already by the falling water from the shower and she watched as he dropped to his knees in front of her, his eyes watching what their fingers were doing and she really wanted to ask what the fuck he thought he was doing but when his other hand reached out and rubbed her clit all rational thought of arguing fled her mind and she let out a breathy moan instead. She heard his replying murmur of appreciation and she reached out with her free hand to grab his wrist when he went to withdraw his fingers and she opened her eyes to look down at him as he looked up to her. His eyes, usually amber and cool, were dark with lust and he bit his plump bottom lip and she rolled her eyes, dropping her back against the wall as he continued to pump his single finger in and out of her with her two slender fingers.

It was nowhere near enough.

Then he slid another finger inside of her and she let out a sound and bucked her hips faster, hoping he would pick up his pace but he kept his leisurely pace, his warm breaths driving her absolutely fucking crazy and she wanted nothing else in that moment than for him to –

"Oh," she managed when his tongue reached and flicked her nub and her knees almost buckled. He noticed and pushed her hips against wall, urging her to lift her leg over his shoulder, then the other and she moaned when she realised she was pretty much straddling his face. Her hips bucked the thought and his tongue wavered slightly and he moaned, using his free hand to drag her fingers out of her and he replaced them with a third of his own pumping faster now, his tongue doing things that she didn't know he knew how to do. Her hips had a mind of their own, bucking into his tongue and fingers, moaning and panting, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she sought for something to ground her. The coil, already tightly wound, exploded within minutes and she came crashing down around his fingers, moaning his name over and over again as he grabbed her butt with his free hand, pushing her further into him until her body was under control once again.

He sat back and helped her slide down against the wall and when she looked at him she saw the confused frown on his face that she knew would be mirrored in her own. He slid his fingers out of her and looked at them as water fell on them. He lifted them to his lips and tasted, closing his eyes against her taste and he watched him, her lip between her teeth until he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"What..." She began but didn't know how to finish. He smiled his crooked grin and his eyes, so dark before with passion, were an easy amber that she knew so well.

"That's what friends do, help each other out?"

She felt the skin around her eyes tighten but she nodded slightly, her eyes flickering to where she'd seen his hard on before he'd stepped into the shower.

"What about..."

She saw his cheeks flush and she smiled at her embarrassed and she opened her mouth in an 'o', ridiculously pleased by the fact she'd made him come without even so much as touching him.

"It was a new experience for me and I've been so..." His eyes raked over her naked body and she felt herself flush; she knew she _should _feel some kind of shame at what just happened but it didn't appear and she was unwilling to conjure it up. His eyes lingered on her pale skin for a second longer before he groaned and dropped back onto his butt and slid up against the wall. "I am _so _fucking sorry," he murmured even as his hand came out to rest on her thigh, his fingers splaying enough to nudge her still sensitive core. "I just... I just couldn't help myself."

She didn't know what to say, so she said nothing and put her hand on his knee, laughing at how soaked his sweats were. She leaned her head on his shoulder and entwined their fingers on her thigh.

"That... was long overdue," she said quietly and she felt him turn to her and she turned to meet his eye, smiling shyly up at him. "It's just not the same when you do it yourself."

He laughed and she felt his lips on her forehead.

"God, I know." She felt his nose nudge her cheek before his lips brushed the skin there and she shuddered. "God, do I know."

"Well, you know... next time..." She couldn't finish the sentence – didn't want to give voice to what she really wanted to do to him, what she wanted him to do to her but he laughed lightly and she knew he understood.

"Like you almost did last night, tease?" He murmured lightly and she felt herself flush, that shame rearing its ugly head and she tucked her head into his shoulder, unable to resist the temptation to press her lips to muscle there. "But thank you."

She grinned against his shoulder and closed her eyes in sudden embarrassment.

"Anytime."


	11. Scene XI

It was harder for Liz than she cared to admit to not react when Max's thigh brushed against hers underneath the table. She tried to pretend that her breath didn't hitch, or that heat didn't flood to her groin, or that her fingers itched to reach out and touch his hair. But she pretended that it didn't bother her; she had to. When she turned to him, she saw him chatting animatedly with Michael, his hands gesturing as words left his mouth but she could see the sly grin trying to spread across his lips whenever he stopped speaking.

She narrowed her eyes.

Soren had come back from Sweden and to celebrate, Maria had organised a nice quiet dinner amongst the group of friends and Liz had chosen not to interpret the half glare Maria had directed at her before she'd even thought of protesting. To be honest, Liz had been avoiding Maria for the past few days – since her encounter with Max in the shower. Maria was far too perceptive for her own good sometimes and Liz really needed her to be oblivious right now. She was doing a fairly good job of dealing with this on her own right now.

And then Soren had come back and she'd still not told him that Max was living with her and now they were out together and Max hadn't toned down the way he acted _at all. _In a way, she was glad. If he toned it down, others might notice and think that something had happened. But at the same time, when he rested his hand on her thigh when he spoke to her she hoped no one would notice the quick intake of breath she'd take before gulping and turning away from him as quickly as possible.

It was ridiculous – she and Max had played these games for years; why was she suddenly reacting to him like this? Oh, that's right: she hadn't had sex for almost two months and, better yet, Max had made her come with his mouth in her shower.

_Fuuuuck._

"You all right, hon?" Serena asked from across the table and Liz bit back another groan. So much for not drawing attention to herself.

Both Soren and Max turned to her, their hands touching her shoulders and she almost laughed out loud at the irony. Either that or moan in pleasure at the thought of the _both _of them touching her _elsewhere_. She barely bit back her groan and managed a nod as she reached for her glass of wine, taking a large gulp. She winced at the bitter, dry taste and looked at the glass in disgust.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Maria narrowed her eyes but looked away, turning to Michael who seemed only too happy with the attention.

"You think we can get out of here soon?" Soren asked and Liz took in his dark rimmed eyes and the glazed look his eyes had taken on after his half glass of beer. She nodded and smiled tightly. "I'm sorry I'm just... I'm beat."

She reached out and covered his hand with hers, smiling more genuinely.

"It's fine. Just finish this course and we'll go, okay?" He nodded and she turned back to her plate but Soren didn't lift his fork and knife. He really did look beat and she suddenly felt that rush of guilt she'd managed to push aside for the last couple of days. The fork shook in her hand and she closed her eyes for a second too long and Maria turned on her.

"You sure you're okay, Liz?"

She nodded but put the knife and fork down, closing her eyes again. This night was supposed to be _fun_. So much for that.

"Yeah, I'm kind of beat. I think the wine has given me a headache," she murmured as she tried to smile reassuringly to her friends on the other side of the table. She could from the miniscule tightening around Maria's eyes that she didn't buy it; Liz only hoped her friend knew enough to leave it alone, for now.

"We're going to go home," Soren butted in and Liz smiled thankfully in his direction. "Sorry guys," he said with a wince as he rose but the others didn't protest.

They quickly said their goodbyes and Soren helped Liz into her jacket before palming fifty dollars to Michael. Liz slid the strap of her bag over her body and leaned down to Max, brushing her lips against his cheek as they said goodnight. She nodded to Maria, blowing her a kiss and waved to the others. She made it two paces away from the table before she felt a tug at the back of her jacket and she almost lost her balance as she swung around. Max thrust his arm out to hold her steady and she glared down at him for a moment before he smiled.

"Are you going home, home?" He asked, his eyes dark as he looked up to her and she frowned slightly before turning slightly to Soren, who was waiting for her by the door. She shook her head when she turned to Max and he smiled slightly, his eyes laughing as his fingers circled her wrist. "You've got the keys, sugar."

Liz frowned for a moment then laughed lightly, nodding. She dug through her bag for the keys and handed them to him, lifting her eyebrow when a sly grin spread across his lips.

"And no strange men in my bed," she warned lightly, glad for the banter.

He quirked a smirk and his eyes glittered. She hated when they did that.

"What about strange girls?"

"So long as they don't try and take my place."

Max's posture stiffened slightly and he quirked a disbelieving eyebrow and Liz eye him curiously.

"Liz, honey, no one would even dare."

As she walked away from him, Liz felt strangely buzzed by his words. Soren slid his arm around her waist and she snuggled closer into his loose embrace as they waited for the taxi to arrive. When it did, he slumped into the back seat and closed his eyes, not even bothering to question why she had given Max her house keys. Liz gave the driver his address, knowing she wouldn't be getting any kind of release that night.

--

Liz yawned and stretched, feeling her stiff muscles clench at the motion. Sunlight streamed in the window and fell across their bodies and she smiled at the lines on Soren's bare back. The light did wonderful things to his pale, almost translucent skin and she ran her fingers over the soft skin there. They had both fallen into a deep sleep the night before and she looked at the clock; they'd been asleep for eleven hours. She listened to his deep breaths and realised that he would not be rising anytime soon. She sighed and leaned down to press a kiss to the back of his neck and he snuffled.

She wrapped the robe around her body, feeling the chill of the room seep into her bones as she moved out into the hallway, silently closing the door behind her. In the kitchen, she turned on the coffee machine then realised there was no milk; she couldn't take her coffee black so she turned it back off and took a bottle of water from the fridge. She checked her messages – all seven of them –, replying to the emails from work first before rifling through her text messages.

'_Bed just isn't the same without you in it :( x x x'_

She chortled a laugh at that, noting that it had been sent at half past one. He, thankfully, hadn't gone out and had hopefully made it the interview he had at a local high school. She quickly replied, asking him just that and with a request that he please wash the sheets if there had been any unfortunate explosions on them. She chuckled to herself and shook her head, moving through the room in search of her laptop that she'd dropped off the night before they'd gone out to dinner. She would give Soren a couple hours more sleep during which time she could try and write; she'd been neglecting it and her editor had been emailing her for days for an update she hadn't even started yet.

--

"So," Soren said as he slouched back into the comfortable leather chair in the local Starbucks, the remains of his hastily eaten sandwich lingering on his shirt and she leaned over to brush the crumbs away. He caught her hand, cradling her wrist to his chest before lifting it to his lips and kissing her knuckles. "I missed you," he murmured, his blue eyes piercing in the mid-afternoon sun. She smiled and licked her lips, pulling her hand back across the table as an elderly woman glared at her from across the cafe.

"I've missed you too," she said and dipped her cookie into her now lukewarm cup of tea.

He quirked an eyebrow and she hated the look that passed over his face. It was a look that had once had almost permanent residence on his features when they'd first started dating back in college.

"You've had Max to keep you company." Liz's eyebrow rose and she tried to swallow her cookie quickly but he simply smirked and looked down, tapping his fingers on the edge of the table. "I called a couple of times and he answered."

"He didn't tell me," Liz murmured, suddenly frustrated with Max.

"I think he was drunk."

"Every time?" Soren lifted his eyebrow and Liz conceded with a nod. "You may be right."

"And I figured that since it was like, two thirty in the morning, he was staying with you."

Liz nodded. She knew she had to tell him at some point but she really hadn't... thought about what she would say. What was there to say? She and Max had lived together when they'd been at college – Soren knew that, even though he'd had a problem with it at the time – and it was really no different than it was now. Right?

"Yeah, he and John broke up." Soren nodded as though he wasn't surprised. "He's just staying until he can afford to move out."

"You're not his mother, Liz, you don't have to look after him," Soren commented but there was no resentment in his tone.

"I know," Liz retorted and looked down to her tea, moving the scummy milk around with her wooden stirrer. "I want to; we've always taken care of each other. It's not like I can toss him out on the street is it?"

Soren smiled and shook his head but his smile fell after a moment and Liz closed her eyes, letting her tongue sneak out and dab her bottom lip. She knew what was coming but she still wasn't entirely prepared for it.

"You could at least make him sleep on the couch." Before Liz could protest Soren held up his hands in surrender. "I have a solution, anyway."

Liz smirked and lifted an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Really?" She murmured, amused.

Soren nodded, suddenly smug.

"Yep." Liz motioned for him to continue and he was suddenly sheepish again. "You could move in with me."

"Soren..."

"Why is it that you can live with him but not with me?"

"Soren-" she began again but he cut her off, once more.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry; it's just... being away from you – my grandma dying, everything... It's just shown me how fragile and fleeting these things in life are and... I don't want to miss any of this. Not with you."

Liz sat back, astounded. She could feel her pulse rushing through her veins and could hear the _thud-thud _of her heart in her chest as adrenaline – fear? – pushed the blood faster and faster. She met his eyes and he looked terrified, fragile and she _wanted _to reach out and touch him, to comfort him but her hand was frozen in her lap.

"Soren what are you-"

"Just think about it." She nodded, though she didn't know _what _she was supposed to be thinking about. Had he just proposed to her? She didn't think so but he had mentioned spending the rest of his life with her and Liz loved him but... was she there? Was she ready to spend her life with someone? She knew that the answer, actually, was yes. But was that person Soren? She wanted to say yes but there was a part of her that knew that that place in her life was already filled by someone. "What are your plans for the day?" He said, executing a perfect shift in topic and Liz was left with emotional whiplash.

She murmured something about the lab and he nodded, trying for casual small talk before giving up when Liz's monosyllabic answers didn't get longer or more literate as time went on. Eventually, he smiled and stood, telling her he was heading back to the apartment to get unpacked. She nodded dumbly, returning his quick kiss.

Minutes after he left, she picked up her cell and dialled Max's number, hoping he was out of his interview.

He picked up after the third ring.

"I think Soren just proposed to me."


	12. Scene XII

Part Twelve

Max flopped into the chair that Soren vacated a little over an hour before. He slid the steaming cup of cappuccino in front of her face and Liz looked up and smiled.

"Thanks," she murmured and Max nodded, smiling. She knew he hated Starbucks coffee – _what was so hard about making a coffee with milk that wasn't frothed up to resemble marshmallows? – _and was glad he was subjecting himself to her lowly local fix. "How was your interview?"

He smiled, a crooked half smile and Liz looked down, revelling in the taste of the coffee as it burned down her throat. There was no other cure.

"Not as interesting as your afternoon with Soren, apparently," he said and he looked up to see him stick his tongue out at her. She laughed and shook her head, running her hand over the edges over her hair and smiled; she wondered if he had ever really grown up.

She instantly dropped her head into her upturned palm and let out a laugh, shaking her head again in an attempt to shake the grin from her face. She wasn't even sure [i]why[/i] she was laughing because this was a situation that did not need to be laughed at.

"I don't even know if he did propose or not," she said eventually and when she looked up at Max he looked amused, even though he was frowning. "Don't look at me like that," she said as his smirk began to break out on his face and he reached out with a condescending hand and patted her shoulder. She narrowed her eyes, glaring at him but he simply smirked back at her.

"If he proposed to you, you would know," he said and Liz closed her eyes, nodding before quickly shaking her head.

"I don't know," she said quietly and she felt an involuntary chuckle leave her body and she frowned at it. She hated her reaction to stress sometimes.

"Trust me, you would know," he reassured, his voice more serious and after a moment, she nodded. She would know, wouldn't she? Surely he would at least have a ring, right? But then, what if he hadn't _meant _to do it just yet? What if he just wanted to ask so badly that he couldn't wait? She closed her eyes and shook her head; or maybe he hadn't asked at all. Yes, she nodded, he hadn't asked and – if he had – she could claim ignorance at his obscurity. "What did he say anyway?"

Liz thought back. What had he said, anyway? She only remembered parts of it. Parts that sounded like he had proposed to her. Holy crap – what had he said to her?

"Something about..." she frowned and trailed off, noting that Max was studying his cup but she shook it off. "Something about realising life was too short and not wanting to miss a moment of mine." She gulped when Max snapped his head up to hers, his eyes wide. "See!" She exclaimed and Max nodded after a moment, lifting the cup to his mouth to hide his smirk. "It's not funny!"

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!" She dropped her head into her hands again. "He just told me to think about it and then left."

He quirked an eyebrow at her and she thought that the soft smile was almost forced. But she didn't question.

"Do you want to marry him?" Liz's face scrunched up before she could regulate it and Max pulled his lips between his teeth and Liz thought he was trying not to laugh at her again. "I'll take that as a 'no' then."

Liz sighed.

"He's just being like this because his grandmother died." Max didn't buy it. "Remember what I was like when [i]my[/i] grandmother died?"

Max chuckled at that and nodded.

"When you tried to grope me in your bed the night before the funeral?" Liz nodded, feeling that familiar blush rise up her cheeks at the memory. "I think that's what swore me off women for the rest of my life..." he murmured and looked innocently away, as though deep in thought. Liz threw her napkin at him.

"Shut up!" She said and laughed and he joined in. "You'll not be wanting that favour returned then, huh?" She said, not entirely sure what the [i]hell[/i] that meant. She watched as his eyes darkened slightly before he smirked and lifted his eyebrows. "Shut up," she murmured again and rolled her eyes, looking away. She'd walked herself right into that one. "He's just... reaching out."

"Or he could really want to spend the rest of his life with you." Max shrugged and Liz looked back up to him, tilting her head in thought. "I just don't like the idea of sharing you for that long," Max said with a light laugh and Liz smiled slowly.

"If you say so, Max, if you say so."

They finished their drinks in silence, watching the others in the cafe filter in and out, enjoying their comfortable silence.

"What are you doing now?" Max asked as he checked his watch and she suddenly noted that he was still in his interview outfit; starched black shirt and dark gray suit trousers, his hair tousled into his usual 'just rolled out of bed' shag and she smiled at the way the colours complimented his skin tone.

Liz checked her watch realising it was later than she thought.

"I have to get to the lab to pick up some things," she said as she began gathering her bag and phone, checking the two emails she'd gotten and had been too lazy to check. Yeah, she definitely needed to get to the lab before the night was out. "What about your interview?"

Max frowned slightly and Liz was sure she wasn't supposed to see it. Again, she didn't question.

"I got offered a job – permanent. Well, for a year, at least," he said and frowned again, choosing to look out of the window as he spoke instead of at her.

"That's good isn't it?" He nodded but his eyebrows lifted and she couldn't understand it. "What did you say?"

He looked back to her and smiled tightly.

"I said I'd think about it." Liz sighed internally. This was just Max, shirking responsibility again. She shook her head but didn't comment. "Anyways, I got to go meet Maria to organise your party."

Liz frowned.

"What party?" Max's lips formed an 'O' but his laughing eyes gave him away as they widened with mirth. "Max, she'll kill you if you've ruined her surprise."

"What surprise?" He asked casually as he stood up, sliding his phone into his pocket. As Liz looked up at him from her seated position, she remembered just how tall he was. And how good looking he was from this angle. "Bye, sugar," he said as he leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek, his fingers through her hair.

"Max, you're bad," Liz murmured to the empty seat across from her.


	13. Scene XIII

Life is trial by fire  
And love's the greatest taste...

Liz was glad that Max had managed to talk Maria out of the surprised party she'd intended throw Liz for her birthday. Instead of a big hall filled with people Liz didn't really want to spend her time with, they'd settled on a nice little under gazebo barbecue that had quickly migrated indoors as soon as the food was cooked and the night's coldness finally settled in. In the lounge, they all sprawled across the chairs and the floor, chatting and drinking from bottles of wine and beer, studiously ignoring Maria's attempts to crack open one of the two bottles of Tequila that were on show in the kitchen.

Liz sighed and leaned her head against the back of the couch, smiling as Maria recounted a tale from their Homecoming dance that they had all heard before but still laughed at incessantly. To her left, Soren chuckled quietly and she rolled her head to look at him; he met her eyes fleetingly before looking away and she winced slightly and closed her eyes again. She had tried to ignore the maybe proposal he'd thrust upon her two weeks prior in the coffee shop but he'd cornered her a couple of hours before and asked if she'd thought more about it. She had and her answer remained the same; she didn't want to get married – and the moving in thing? That might not be a good idea either, considering he was going back to Sweden for a month in a couple of weeks.

He'd tucked his lips between his teeth and moved around her.

Between her legs, Max shifted, nudging her knee with his chin and she smiled slightly, flexing the fingers that were immersed in his hair and continued to massage his head and play with his hair like she had been before she'd slithered off to guilt-land. She felt him shift and smiled when he tucked his arm behind her knee and hugged her leg, massaging her calf lightly. She sighed and felt herself sink further into the soft cushions of Max's would-be bed.

"I still remember the first time Liz saw me with John," Max said lightly, pinching her calf tighter than before and she growled in the back of her throat as he chuckled at the memory. He his forehead against the skin above her neck and let out a breathy laugh and she tugged on his hair lightly in a move meant to discourage him but she felt his breath hitch against her leg.

_Ohhh..._

That was interesting.

"Wasn't that like... in your last year of college?" Kyle asked, almost managing to sound unfazed by the talk of Max with another man. She felt Max nod enthusiastically and Liz rolled her eyes, casting her eyes to Soren who was simply staring at Max, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Yeah, you should have seen her face!" Max exclaimed and laughed loudly, and Liz swatted him, pulling his hair harder this time. He went on, unfazed. "It was like she walked in on a scene from a porno or something!" He laughed and Liz rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't that bad," she murmured and shrugged, feeling the heat climb up her cheeks. "And I've walked in on much more since then."

"I swear, if I didn't already know you watched gay porn, sugar, I'd have thought you'd never seen two guys kiss before."

"I'd never seen _you_ kiss another guy before. It was... unexpected."

Max turned to her, his warm shoulders brushing against her legs as he turned his upper body around, smirking at her. She took in his raised eyebrows and narrowed her eyes.

"You knew I was gay, honey, it shouldn't have been _that_ unexpected."

_Liz froze as she rounded the corner into their small kitchen and guffawed at the sight before her. Max was pressed up against the work top by another man, slightly taller, who was kissing him like the world depended on it. While Liz knew Max was gay and that John had stayed the night (she'd purposely fallen asleep listening to her iPod) it was still... unnerving to witness their post-coital bliss first hand. It was an odd sight and she felt her head cock slightly as she watched them, hands roaming and touching and feeling, running through hair that already looked like sex hair._

_She'd admit, it was kind of... hot._

_She cleared her throat and when they broke apart a few moments later, Liz raised an amused eyebrow at John's sheepish grin and Max's smug expression before John mumbled his excuses and left. Liz took a step towards Max, still smiling and pressed her finger into his chest._

_"I know that you two had sex in places other than your bedroom. Now, I am going to take a shower and when I come out, I expect you to have cleaned all the places you two had sex, okay?"_

_Max rolled his eyes._

_"It's not like we have cooties, Liz," Max said lightly, capturing her finger in his fist and pulled it to his chest and she continued to mock glare at him._

_"Neither does me or Soren but I still clean the sofa every time we have sex on it."_

_She took a step away from him and cocked her eyebrow at his disgusted expression._

_"Too much info, babycakes," he said in a low growl and Liz smirked._

_She took another step away from him and turned away, glancing at him over her shoulder._

_"Clean, now."_

_She was almost out the door when he shouted her back. She paused and turned around, wishing she hadn't when she saw him wiggling his eyebrows as he took the scrubber to the worktop. Liz contained her gag reflexes and glared at him. She went to move away again when he spoke._

_"Admit it, sugar, you liked what you just saw."_

_She rolled her eyes and walked away._

"You watch gay porn, Liz?" Maria asked, managing to sound scandalized and Liz rolled her eyes, pointing an accusing finger at Maria.

"You forget, Mar, that it was _you_ that got me into it!" Maria's eyes widened and she glanced sideways to Michael but he just smirked back at her, clapping a big hand onto her knee and smiled.

"It's okay for you to get off on two guys; I get off on two girls," he said with a shrug and they all laughed good naturedly.

Max nodded.

"Yeah man, two girls is hot," he said enthusiastically and everyone stopped laughing, turning to look at him. "What?" He said defensively and they all raised their eyebrows. Liz stopped massaging his head, wondering when Max had started watching lesbian porn. What did that mean? "Come on, man, porn is porn," he said indifferently with a shrug. "Except het – that's just weird."

"You watch lesbian porn?" Serena asked and Max nodded, his face pressing against Liz's thigh and she patted his head condescendingly. She could imagine the flush that he would try to deny. "And you get off on it?"

"It's... educational."

Something in Liz's mind clicked and she sat up straighter, her hand clamping down on his hair. She could feel Max's chuckle and she narrowed her eyes when he turned around to her, a smug grin on his face.

"That's how you..." She trailed off, realising what she was asking and where and she felt her own flush rise from her chest and she looked away from him.

"There's a lot of good can come from porn, sugar," he said and cupped her knee with his big hand, mirroring her condescending pat before he turned around and nestled himself further between her legs. Liz couldn't deny the heat that centred in the southern regions of her body. She glanced over to Soren, but he wasn't looking at her. In fact, it seemed as though he wasn't looking at anything.

Liz knew, without having him tell her, that her refusal to marry him had been an ending of sorts. But his lack of response to the conversation that seemed to have piqued everyone else's interest showed her that they had ended. She felt a pang and just as she was about to look away, he looked up to her, his blue eyes sad. There was something else there that she dare not interpret and she smiled over to him, reaching out with her free hand to cover his. He turned his palm up under her touch and let her trace her fingers over his skin. He shuddered and she smiled when he closed his large palm over her fingers, giving them a gentle squeeze.

She'd missed these quiet moments with him and it saddened her greatly that she most likely would never get to experience them ever again. As she looked at their fingers, together but not entwined, she wondered when they'd lost that spark. She wondered when she stopped being in love with him. She sighed and when she looked up to his eyes, she could see the same quiet expression on his features that she was sure would be on hers. He pulled his hand from under hers and pulled his lips between his teeth, looking away from her.

"Liz?" She was snapped from her quietude by Maria's voice and she stood to see Maria standing over her, eyebrow raised and hand on hip. "You coming?" Liz frowned but nodded, gently pushing Max's head out of the way so she could stand and adjusted the sweat pants that had ridden up slightly.

Maria led her to the kitchen, shuffling about the small space, pulling bowls and packets of Doritos from the cupboards with more force than necessary. When she'd managed to almost smash a bowl from setting it down so hard, Liz laid her hand on her friend's elbow and urged her to look at her.

"Maria, what's wrong?"

Maria turned to her, scowling for a moment before she wiped the expression from her face. Liz almost preferred it to the look of utter confusion and loss that replaced it.

"When did you stop being my best friend, Liz?"

Liz took a step back and frowned.

"What?"

Maria motioned with her hands the space between them and Liz frowned, feeling something claw up her chest.

"I... I don't know. I just... when was the last time we had a proper conversation? When was the last time we sat in, just the two of us, or went out for a drink or shopping or... Ever since Max has moved in, you've gone all mother hen on him and I never see you. I never hear from you. Last time we talked it was about Max – did I offend you? Are you mad at me? Because I've been trying to figure out why you've not told me any of the things I know have been going on. I mean – Soren proposed and you don't mention it to me? He asks you to move in and you don't send me an excited text. You're hiding from me and I don't like it. I thought it was something... I thought something was going on with you and Max but – you guys are always like this and I came here expecting to see some kind of different but all I saw was that strange conversation about lesbian porn and Liz what _was_ that? And then the look between you and Soren and I just feel like... I just feel like I don't know what's going on in your life and it's made me mad at you because I think you're pushing me away but I don't know _why_."

When she finished, Liz felt the burn of tears at the back of her eyes and she pulled Maria to her tightly, surprising the taller woman.

"Oh, Maria," she said with emotion, squeezing harder when Maria sobbed into her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea..." She took in a breath. "I didn't mean to push you away. It's just that Max has been here and he's _here_ when I need to talk and it's just so easy to forget that I need to talk about stuff after I've talked to him about it. I didn't think it was that big of a deal; you know how I deal with things. I'm sorry," she murmured again, turning her head into Maria's neck tucking her friend closer to her.

"I just..." Maria pulled back and leaned against the work top, but didn't really separate their bodies. Neither made any move to brush the tears from their faces. "It's always been you and me."

Liz's let out a watery laugh at that, nudging Maria with her shoulder.

"You're jealous of Max?" She teased but Maria tensed slightly and Liz drew back, astonished. "You _are_ jealous of Max?"

Maria looked uncomfortable at being caught out but Liz laughed, engulfing her into another hug that Maria readily returned.

"I'm sorry," Maria murmured and sniffed a few more times before she withdrew.

Liz smiled up to her before narrowing her eyes conspiratorially.

"Want to know something Max doesn't know?" Maria nodded fervently and Liz had to hold back her chuckle. Instead, she looked down as she felt that same melancholy clench her chest in a vice grip. "Soren and I broke up tonight."

Maria pushed Liz away from her, holding her by the shoulders as her eyes swept over her face.

"Oh my God! Are you okay? Liz, why didn't you say-"

"I'm fine Maria," Maria went to interrupt again but Liz shook her head. "I really am." She looked down again, gulping when she felt a lump in her throat. "So fine that I actually feel guilty about it," she murmured and Maria bent her knees so she could meet Liz's eye. When Liz looked up, Maria had an unreadable expression on her face – a contortion of pity and confusion and Liz was glad that Maria was, somehow, unquestioning.

A few moments passed in long silence and Liz felt her shoulders slump in something akin to relief as she realised her and Soren weren't together anymore. Just as suddenly, they were tense again as guilt took control and she shook her head.

"Thank you," Maria murmured, drawing Liz's confused body closer to hers.

Long minutes later, someone cleared their throat and Liz pulled back to look at Soren, who was shuffling in the doorway, his jacket in hand. Liz gulped and looked back to Maria, who quickly made her escape with the bowls tucked professionally in her arms.

"I'm..." he cleared his throat again and fidgeted. "I'm going to go," he murmured thickly, his eyes rising to meet Liz's.

She gulped again and nodded, following as he hesitantly moved to the door. It was awkward and horrible and at the door, neither knew what to do. She kept staring at his chest, unwilling to meet his eyes for fear that the tears she was trying valiantly to hold back would spill over. He made the decision for them, taking a step closer to her and wrapping his arms around her body, lowering his head into the crook of her neck. She breathed in his scent, so familiar, but didn't try to memorise it. She buried into his chest for a moment before he pulled back, lowering his head and dropped a chaste kiss to her cheek.

She took in a deep breath, lifting her eyes up to meet his. He smiled warily down at her, sadness lingering in every shift in his muscle.

"I really could have spent the rest of my life with you," he murmured sadly and Liz felt a sob tear through her throat. He lifted his fingers to her lips to shush her but she couldn't bring herself to look at the grief she had caused him. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he murmured but stepped away from her. The gesture made her cry more but he didn't return to her. He slid out of the door, closing it quietly behind him.

When Max came to find her, she was leaning against the wall, her head in her hands as she doubled over at the waist. She had wanted to cry but no tears came out. He reached out to her, taking her wrists in his big hands pulled her arms around his body. She fell into him and he shushed her, swaying them gently from side to side as he ran his fingers up and down her back.

"Sugar," he said to her after a few minutes, "I know it's your party and you can cry if you want to but the sight of those tears on your pretty face is breaking my heart."

She clutched onto him tighter and sobbed dryly, the tears still refusing to come.

After another couple of minutes, she let him lead her back to the lounge. He sat down on the sofa and patted his lap. She lay down, resting her head on his thighs, rubbing patterns on his jean clad knees while he ran his fingers through her hair, rubbing her temples or shoulder. The others didn't talk about Soren leaving and Serena tried to urge them all to crack open the bottles of Tequila. Liz refused – as did Max – but the others relented. When the first bottle was done – and they were all pretty plastered – they left. Liz didn't rise to see them out. Neither did Max.

They stayed like that and when Liz looked out the window again, dawn was burning on the horizon. She snuggled further into Max and he sighed, sliding further down the sofa as his fingers dug into her skin for a moment.

"We should go to bed," he said and Liz nodded but neither of them moved for a long time. Evetually, Max shifted and Liz lifted her head high enough for him to pull his legs up onto the sofa and slid them behind her. She could feel his back press up against her, his arm snaking around her waist and she screwed her eyes tight shut when he tangled his legs with hers. "Good morning, sugar," he whispered quietly into her neck, his lips pressing against the skin just beneath her ear.

She fell asleep to the sight of the tawny dawn breaking through the inky night and Max's breath on her neck.


	14. Scene XIV

Part 14

Liz didn't bother saying anything to Max about the stubble he'd left in the sink that morning when he'd shaved; she'd learned long ago that it made no difference. Instead, she dropped his toothbrush into the sink on top of it and smirked as she left the bathroom. Outside the window, dawn was barely tinting the horizon so she was more than surprised to wake up and find Max gone; his brief note about going to the gym only served to pique her curiosity as it had been many months since he had partaken in his one time favourite activity.

She was due at the labs in an hour so she dropped a waffle into the toaster and set the kettle to boil. Normally, she hated instant coffee but she simply lacked the energy to go about setting up the coffee maker. She dropped a teaspoon full of granules into her cup, added a dash of milk and leaned against the counter closing her eyes. It had been two weeks since she'd broken up with Soren and she was surprised by how easy it was to adjust to not being with him. Logically, she knew it was because he hadn't been around in the months leading up to their break up but there was still a part of her that felt guilty for her lack of reaction. She was still waiting for the pain to hit, expecting it to come at her like a freight train. It never did and the guilt swelled.

She stiffened when she felt two arms slide around her waist before relaxing and melting into Max's chest, breathing out a long heavy sigh. She covered his arms with her own and drew in a breath when his fingers began massaging her hips.

"Oh God, Max," she groaned and tried to pull away from him but he just chuckled and pulled her in closer. "You _stink_!"

"It's just the heady scent of man, Liz. Don't pretend like it doesn't turn you on."

At his words – and maybe the fact that she could feel his very obvious arousal pressed against her back – she felt heat flood between her legs and she bit back another, much more pleased groan. She felt him duck his head into her neck, bending his knees behind her and managed to succeed in rubbing his erection against her butt.

"It's disgusting."

He made a noise but it was wordless and Liz couldn't stop her hips from rolling slightly and she smirked at the low rumble that emanated from Max's chest. His fingers on her hips tightened and he pulled her further back against him, his hips jerking and Liz lost coherent thought for a moment.

"You heading off to work?" He asked conversationally as his fingers worked their way under the shirt she wore, stroking the skin of her waist before he brushed the back of his fingers across her abdomen. She felt her thighs rub against one another as her body tightened against his fingers.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice husky as she pressed herself back against him, eliciting another grumble from him. Her waffle popped and Liz reached over to pull it from the toaster, rubbing her butt against Max's cock and he gripped her hips, thrusting against her a couple of times before groaning and pulling away from her. She sighed in relief as well as frustration as he settled against the counter beside her, his arms crossed over his chest. He made no attempt to adjust the protrusion in his pants and Liz couldn't help but let her eyes drift down as she took a bite of her waffle.

"I can't believe you're eating that dry," he said but the scratchy tone of his voice gave him away. Liz smirked and watched as he slid up onto the counter, his hands resting in his thighs as he looked just past Liz's head. "You're right," he said a few moments later as he dropped his head to the side and lifted his arm over his head, "I do stink." Liz lifted her hand and set it on his thigh, rubbing gently, barely holding back her laugh as his hips jerked involuntarily. His large hand came over hers, pressing hers flat against his thigh and Liz looked up to his face that was contorted with barely there restraint. "Don't start something you're not going to finish."

Liz smirked and drew her hand away from him, wondering what the hell she was doing.

"Who said I wasn't going to finish it?" She asked as she stepped in between his legs, settling her hands on either of his thighs. She felt his ankles wrap around the back of her knees holding her in place even as his eyebrows drew together in confusion. "You still have that favour to call in," she said quietly, wishing that he would, hoping that he wouldn't. She heard him draw in a quick breath as his hands settled on her hips and she looked up to his face again and saw him looking over her shoulder.

"You have to leave for work soon," he said tightly and Liz frowned, feeling the instant sting of rejection. She quirked an eyebrow at him, despite it, and tried for playfulness as she drew back.

"Well in that case, I better go."

She struggled against his grip for a moment before he let her go. She tried to smirk at him as he sat on the worktop before she turned and fled to the relative safety of her bedroom. Once there, she shut the door and leaned against it, dropping her head into her hands.

"Shit," she said, barely holding back the tears that stung the back of her eyes. "I can't believe I just did that," she murmured and fought back the sob that threatened to escape. That would not do. She banged her head quietly against the door a few times before pushing herself off it and walking to her bed. "Of course he wouldn't want you, stupid," she murmured to herself as she pulled the covers back, tossing the pillows over as she searched for her BlackBerry amongst the sheets. She grit her teeth and shook her head and fought against the stubborn lump in her throat. "Fuck."

It took her a few minutes but she found her phone tucked inside one her pillowcases and she gripped it victoriously in her fist when there was a knock on the door to her bedroom, followed by Max's voice.

"Liz?" She saw the handle dip slightly but he made no move to open the door. "Can I come in?"

She wanted to say no, she really did but when she went to voice her protest, she acquiesced instead and the door opened slowly. Max stood there, still holding the handle as he stared at her sheepishly, the faintest hint of regret lining his eyes. She looked away and moved to the closet, pulling out a bag and dropped her phone into it, not speaking to him.

The floorboards creaked alerting her to the fact that he had stepped into the room. A few moments later, she felt his heat behind her alerting her to his proximity and she felt the embarrassment sting across her cheeks. She didn't turn around, even when he placed a hand on her shoulder, attempting to turn her.

"I'm sorry," he murmured quietly and she felt his body sag slightly and take a step away from her. His hand dropped from her shoulder and she gulped at the loss of contact. _Damn_ _hormones_. "I don't want to..." Liz but the inside of her lip, feeling the humiliation rise. "It took every ounce of my willpower to tell you no, just now." Liz tilted her head in his direction, surprised by his words. "I just don't... I don't think it's a good idea to... to..."

She spun then, smiling brightly. Falsely. She put her hand on his shoulder as she moved past him, making sure she didn't brush against him as she passed.

"Don't worry about it."

As she fled to the hall, grabbing her jacket and purse, she heard his voice calling to her but she didn't stop. She didn't listen. On the stairs outside her apartment, she put a hand to her face, covering her eyes and let out a ridiculous laugh.

"Fuck."


	15. Scene XV

_Come up to meet you  
__Tell you I'm sorry  
__You don't know how lovely you are  
__I had to find you, tell you I need you  
__Tell you I set you apart..._

When Liz got home that night, the apartment was in darkness. She would admit that she'd stayed out longer than was entirely necessary in the hopes that she wouldn't need to see Max. She'd gone out with a few people from the labs and Jesse had offered to 'take her home' and she'd thought about it, she really had but she knew that it wouldn't be fair to either Jesse or herself. Because she knows she wouldn't be able to think of anyone other than Max and she didn't need to add that to the guilt she already felt for her lack of feeling for her break up with Soren. She'd not been entirely sure what she'd wanted when she'd stayed away; there was no escape from Max while he lived in her apartment and she didn't want to think about where he'd be or who he'd do to get out of the apartment.

She sighed and dropped her bag onto the sofa in the living room after making sure Max's prone form wasn't there. She leaned against the back of the sofa for support as she reached down and pulled her shoes off before running a hand through her hair wearily and let her body flop over the back of the chair until she was lying haphazardly across the cushions. She didn't know what was wrong with her.

Well, that wasn't strictly true. She _did_. But she just didn't care to admit it, even to herself.

She had always thought she would spend the rest of her life with Max. There was still a part of her that wondered if maybe it would still happen the way she really wanted it to. And it was that tiny, zero point five per cent of her mind that stopped her from giving herself to someone even half of what she'd already given to Max. While she accepted their friendship and had pushed those feelings far, far away she just... wondered.

She remembered in high school, a couple of months before Max told her he was gay, the way he had watched her or touched her; his stare used to burn holes in the back of her head in Math and he'd always 'accidentally' rub his arm against hers in Biology. And she was pretty sure that they made more chemistry in Chemistry than the teacher ever managed to create in his experiments. She had thought that Max telling her he was gay would have broken her heart but... she had been selfish enough to believe that it was just a phase. She had hoped it was, at least. Because there had been times over the past years where she had thought it was obvious he still wanted her – like _that_. But then, they'd shared a bed pretty much all through college, even now, and nothing had happened until the past few months that Soren had been gone.

And she hated it. She hated him, in a sense, for showing that kind of interest in her again when she was finally managing to get over him in that way. She had finally committed herself to someone more than she had any other boyfriend – even Kyle – and then Max had moved in with her and everything had gone to pot. And she knew it was because no one could ever measure up to Max. There was no one else for her, just Max. And she hated that about herself.

"God," she murmured, her words muffled by the cushions on the sofa. "Pathetic."

And she felt pathetic, mooning over her gay best friend who just happened to have a very talented tongue. And that! What the hell had that been? She fought back a scoff, swallowing down the bitter venom that lined the back of her throat at the memory of his rejection of her earlier that morning.

_"You have to work soon."_

"Fuck," she murmured and fought back a sob. She'd managed to not think about it, really, all day. Sure, her mind had wandered to it every now and then but... Fuck. She'd really been rejected by him. She wasn't what he wanted and she was annoyed at herself for ever thinking that she was. It was ridiculous. He was gay and even if he wasn't, he could have his pick of any girl he wanted; he wouldn't want Liz.

"I wouldn't lie face down on that couch if I were you."

She sprang up and spun around to face him in the doorway. He leaned against it with his shoulder, one leg folded over the other, his hair tousled and arms bulging against the tight white shirt he wore. God, he was beautiful. The darkness of the room seemed only to amplify how much she wanted him, as the shadows caught his face, highlighting half of it against the dark backdrop. She knew she should say something to him, but she didn't know what. So she didn't say anything and watched him as he pushed off the wall with surprising grace and walked towards her, crouching down in front of the sofa to meet her eyes.

"Sweetheart, you okay?"

And Liz hated even more that he could pretend nothing had happened.

She ignored him.

"You've been drinking."

Well, yeah. And it may be adding to her hatred towards him now but she really did feel all these things. And she really hated that she felt this way. It was just that the alcohol was making her acknowledge the feelings. And she hated the alcohol too.

"Jesse asked me to go home with him."

She watched as Max's brow furrowed, as his eyes darkened slightly and she smiled smugly to herself. Maybe she should have gone home with Jesse, if it made Max react the way he was. She had never particularly been fond of jealousy but the way it made Max's eyes – if, indeed, it was jealousy he was experiencing – was pretty fucking hot.

"To have sex?"

Liz snorted slightly and met his eyes for a brief moment, hoping he would be able to see some of the hatred she had for him in that moment.

"No, to bake cookies."

"Liz..."

"Why would it be a bad thing if I had sex with someone?"

"It wouldn't but you're drunk."

"Do you want to have sex with me Max?"

His lips quirked slightly into a half smirk as his eyes scanned over her body and Liz felt her traitorous body respond to his probing gaze.

"Not right now, no."

Liz sighed heavily and folded her arms over her chest and glared at him, quickly removing the smirk from his face as he leaned forward towards her, resting his palms flat against the cushion in between her thighs. She didn't dare think about what else he _should_ be doing in that position.

"Stop doing that."

Max's frown deepened and she watched as the fingers of his right hand flexed, as though wanting to reach out and touch her. She wished he would. She hoped he wouldn't. He did and she felt his warm touch burn through her skin. She flinched away from him.

"Doing what?"

It had been a long time since she'd heard his voice like this; she had probably only heard it once in the whole time she'd known him. That one time when he'd stayed over before his 'revelation' and he'd asked her to stop moving. She scoffed at the memory; ridiculous thoughts, sure she had imagined the severity of his tone.

"I want to have sex with you."

There. It was out there. She cringed and instantly wished she could take it back. But Max let out a low chuckle and his fingers reached out to stroke her cheek with his knuckles. She hated that her body reacted to his touch, that her head leaned into his touch.

"You're just horny, sweetheart."

"No!" She protested but he smirked at her and she rolled her eyes, letting a smirk spread over her lips. "Well yeah," she said as she shuffled forward on the couch, urging him between her legs more and she delighted in the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down and the way his eyes flickered between the apex of her thighs and his fingers on her waist. "But that's not what I meant." She watched as her fingers drifted up his arm, over his neck – he shivered at that and she smirked lightly – and on into his hair. She loved the feel of his hair between her fingers and she watched as they tickled the soft skin between her fingers. "I want you, Max." She looked down to his hooded eyes and tugged on his hair until he looked up to her, his eyes dark. "I know you want me too," she whispered huskily and she felt Max shift between her legs.

"I do." He leaned forward, his breath washing over the exposed skin of her chest and she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. "I _really_ do." She watched as he licked his lips, so close to her skin that she could feel the heat of his tongue as it passed over the thin layer of skin on his lips and she shuddered. "You have no idea," he whispered against her skin, his lips a mere ghostly presence on her skin. "I have no idea what I'm doing," he murmured and she felt his presence at her neck, so she tilted it for him. His breath bathed her in his scent. There was pressure just below her ear and a sound escaped her lips.

"Let me teach you," she whispered breathily and Max pulled back from her, looking up to her from beneath his lashes and she groaned at the evident vulnerability there.

"You're drunk," he murmured, his own voice hoarse with desire and waning restraint. She dragged her hand from his hair, capturing his face between her two palms and leaned in to him.

"I'm quickly sobering up."

His breath was a shudder when he released it and watched as he turned his head, kissing one wrist then the other before grabbing her elbows and pulling her onto the floor with him, her thighs straddling his legs. He lifted a shaking hand and rested in on her shoulder, watching as he drew it slowly down her body. At her waist, he hesitated and she nodded quickly and his hand slid beneath it, snaking back up her body bringing the shirt up with it. Her heart stuttered in her chest when his reverent touch skimmed the underside of her lace covered breast and she felt him shift his hips and she wanted to laugh but he cupped her breast through her bra and it turned into a breathy moan.

"Liz..."

"Take me to bed, Max."

He wrapped his free arm around her waist and she locked her legs around his as he shifted to stand. When he was up, she took his face in her hands again and, looking into his eyes, sought the permission she knew he would grant.

He nodded, then drew back slightly as his brow furrowed. "What?" She asked and reached up to poke her finger into the crease between his brows.

"You'll..." he began hesitantly then looked up to her with a small grin on his face. "You'll show me what you like?"

She nodded once and brushed her lips against his, hardly able to hold the grin back from her lips and she could feel the answering smile on his.

"Only if you promise to show me what _you_ like."

He squeezed her breast and walked them backwards to her room.

Oh, she was _definitely _sobering up.


	16. Scene XVI

_There's something 'bout the way your hair falls in your face  
I love the shape you take when crawling towards the pillowcase  
You tell me where to go and though I might leave to find it  
I'll never let your head hit the bed without my hand behind it..._

It took them a long time to reach the bedroom because, apparently, Max wasn't shy anymore. He'd pressed her up against the wall and absolutely ravaged her neck with his lips and teeth and tongue while she'd been a helpless accessory to his desire. He'd managed, somehow, to get the tee shirt over her head while Liz was still coming to terms with the fact that _this was really happening_. Her hands dug underneath his shirt in search of skin and she clung to his shoulders as he dipped his head and grazed his tongue over the skin above the lace of her bra.

She moaned, loudly, when he pulled away from her and tried, once more, to get them to their bed. _Their bed_.

"Oh, God," she moaned when she rocked her hips and felt his hardness press into her. If she had been wet before, she was uncomfortably so now and ground her hips against him for some much needed friction.

"Shit, Liz..." Max ground out as he nipped at her neck and Liz was sure she felt the skin break but she couldn't cry out because Max's tongue was in her mouth in a searing, open mouthed kiss and she wondered if she'd died and gone to heaven. Max stumbled as she sucked on his earlobe and they landed with a distinct lack of grace or ceremony on the bed in a tangle of limbs and lips and laughs. "I want you naked."

He tugged at her work pants and Liz batted his hands away, hurriedly unfastening the buttons as Max untied the drawstring that held his pyjama bottoms up. She paused when they dropped to the floor and she felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight of him. She'd known he was big – hell, she'd felt just how big he was moments before as he'd been tucked between their bodies – but the sight of him unsheathed and hard _for her_ was enough to have Liz rubbing her legs together in frustration. In a move that surprised even her, she found herself on her knees in front of him, gripping him in her tiny fist as one hand went out to his hip to steady herself. She pumped her fist slowly up and down and she marvelled at the bead of pre-cum that appeared. She licked it, flicking her tongue quickly over the slit there and she heard Max groan, his hands falling to her shoulders before he pushed her back roughly onto the bed.

She landed with a bounce and a giggle and Max smiled happily down to her as he leaned over her, sliding her pants down her legs. His fingers danced up her legs and she fought for breath that seemed to be working overtime to avoid her lungs and she squirmed when he traced along the crease of her thigh, his knuckles barely grazing her soaked panties. She heard him pant as he leaned over her, kissing the inside of her thigh, biting the skin lightly and Liz bucked her hips at that. When he travelled up her body, Liz felt the synthetic cotton of his shirt against her skin and she shivered, her hands falling to the hem to pull it up and over his head. He pulled back from her slightly as she dropped it to the floor beside the bed and she smiled at the ruffled state of his hair. She reached up and patted it into some form of order before looking back to Max's amused eyes and she felt herself blush slightly as she tugged his head down to hers for a kiss.

"I want to do this right," Max said between kisses as his fingers hooked around the waist of her panties and Liz lifted her hips from him to draw them off. "But I just really want to be inside of you right now."

Liz groaned at the words and her leg involuntarily wrapped around the back of his thighs and he grabbed onto her hip, thrusting harshly against her. His cock teased her clit at he slid over her, his tongue working the skin on her neck as her fingers sought any part of his skin she could reach. His hands wandered a fiery trail down her body, between their heated flesh and she arched her back, keening as he slid a finger inside of her.

"Oh, _God_," she managed before he added another and she groaned in pleasure as he crooked his fingers slightly before withdrawing them, stroking over her folds and moving the moisture about. His thumb brushed against her clit and she squeaked – actually squeaked – and opened her eyes to find Max smirking down at her.

"That's where it is..." he murmured as his thumb sought out her bundle of nerves again and he slid his two fingers back inside of her. And oh fucking God, he was so fucking good. His fingers played her like an instrument, and she sang for him, bucking wildly against his fingers and body, her thighs clamping around his hips as he ground against her at the friction. She could feel his blunt head against her at points, only adding to the sensation and she bit down on his shoulder, sucking not-so-gently as her skin burst into flames and her body burned with the heat of her orgasm. "That's got to be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," Max murmured reverently into her ear as she gasped for breath, his body a welcomed, grounding weight above her floating body.

"Max..." she managed on a breath and he turned his head into her neck, licking the column of her neck, sucking her skin between his teeth.

"I can feel your pulse in my mouth," he said in wonderment as he pulled the skin between his teeth again and Liz could feel his teeth over her pulse. It sent a jolt of heat to her already sensitive core and she jerked against him. He moaned, some incomprehensible words escaping his lips and Liz slid her hands down his back, around his body until she could grip his cock in her hands. He twitched in her hand and she smirked slightly, squeaking again when Max nipped playfully at her jaw then her earlobe. Her nipples tightened at that and Max let out a breathy laugh. "Your body is so responsive to me..." He marvelled and Liz arched her back into him as she heard the possessiveness in his tone. A part of her brain was sure she could hear her heart speak with each thud in response to his words.

_Yours, yours. Yours, yours. Yours, yours._

"I thought you wanted to be inside of me," she whispered against his ear, flicking her tongue around the shell and he dropped to his forearms, his head resting on the pillow beside her head as he groaned loudly at her words. She squeezed his cock in her hand and he jerked into it. Steadily, she positioned his blunt head against her over-sensitized core, both of them moaning at the contact. Their hips moved against one another and she took his head into her and she was hit with a sudden thought. "Shit, protection."

Max pulled his upper body from hers, the motion causing him to slide further into her and she closed her eyes, biting back to moan of pleasure at the sensation.

"You don't have any?" He sounded distraught, and his fingers tightened on her nipple a little roughly but she found she enjoyed the sensation. She shook her head and fought to keep her hips immobile. She could feel his arms tremble – his whole body was vibrating – and she looked up to his eyes, meeting his contemplative stare. Her inner muscles squeezed, wanting to draw him further into her and she saw Max's eyes roll slightly at the sensation of his head being sucked in by her. "Fuck..." he groaned and his hips flexed and it was Liz's eyes who rolled as he moved infinitesimally further into her. He was going to feel so fucking good buried ball deep inside of her. If they ever actually got that far. "I'm clean," he managed, his voice hoarse with desire and Liz looked up to him licking her lips. "And I know you're on the pill..." His eyelids shuttered involuntarily as her fingers wove into his hair, pulling his upper body back to hers. "I've never... not without..." And Liz couldn't help the small smile that erupted on her face at the thought that he had always been safe; she had too, never once having sex without a condom and she knew that Max was the only one she would ever want to experience that with. "But I understand if you don't want to..." His sentence trailed off into a loud moan as Liz thrust her hips up into his, taking him inside of her. He dropped to his forearms and his open mouth latched onto her neck and she could feel his cock twitch inside of her. "Holy shit that feels fucking..."

He rocked them slightly and he slid deeper into her and Liz moaned out loud. His fingers sought out her body, his palm kneading her breast as his other hand held her hip up against his as he thrust slowly in and out of her, his face a mixture of awe and desire that sent another pulse through her core. Max sped up in retaliation and he back arched into him at the increased speed. He felt amazing. So deep and long and hers and holy fuck he was a divine creature sent from heaven just for her, she was sure of it, and her body pulsed for him.

"Slide your arm under my back," she instructed, not wanting to lose an inch of contact with his skin and he complied, tightening his grip against her when he groaned at the deeper penetration.

"Holy fuck, Liz..." He ground out between clenched teeth. His head dropped to her chest and he nipped at a nipple and she bucked against him, meeting his eager thrusts and dug her nails into her shoulders, scratching lightly down his back and he vibrated – fucking vibrated – against her so she did it again, tightening her legs around his back and they both moaned at the freedom the position offered him. "You feel... made for me... holy fuck, fuck, Liz, fuck."

Liz knew what he meant but comprehensive thought was not a viable option and the only sound she could make were moans of pleasure and breathy pants as his body surged against her, bringing him deeper and deeper inside of her. She could feel him against her womb and his size was almost painful but the pleasure was too much, too empowering for any of the pain to matter. He nipped at her skin and when a moment of clarity hit her, she realised his shoulder was spattered with teeth marks and small purple bruises and she smirked but he lifted one of his knees and he was brushing against a spot she never knew existed and she screamed out in pleasure. The tight spiral was almost at breaking point and she knew from Max's erratic thrusts that he was just as close as she was.

She was about the tell him to touch her clit but his lips slid over hers as his hand reached for hers on his shoulder, drawing their hands between their bodies. His violent tongue mirrored the erratic thrusts of his cock in and out of her and Liz moaned into his mouth when he brought their joined fingers to where his cock was pumping furiously in and out of her. It was the single most erotic feeling in the world, the feel of their union beneath her fingers and she pulled her mouth away from his to cry out as her orgasm burst through her body, convulsing over Max's cock. She could feel her wetness on his cock as he continued to pump through her convulsion before he stiffened above her, spilling his seed deep inside of her.

Panting, he collapsed on top of her, his sweaty forehead resting at the crook of her neck and shoulder and she lifted a heavy arm to wrap around his back. His fingers stroked her hip lazily while the other kneaded the thigh that was still locked around his waist. She could stay like this forever. She dropped a kiss to his hair and he mirrored it with one to her neck and she smiled. She fucking grinned because she'd just made love to Max.

"Please tell me I didn't just dream that," Max said, his voice muffled and still breathless and she chuckled, her breasts rubbing against his chest causing both of them to groan.

"I don't think either of our imaginations are that good."

Max lifted himself from her slightly and they both hissed as he withdrew from her, both smiling like idiots at that. He shifted his weight until he was lying half on top of her, his ear resting over her heart as he looked up at her through his eyelashes. Her heart stuttered and her breath caught in her throat but she couldn't stop the smile that crept across her features.

"Are we doing this?" He whispered as he stroked his fingers over her stomach, the muscles contracting beneath his touch.

He ran her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck and traced the column of his neck with her index finger, watching as he bent his neck for her touch.

"We already are doing this."

He looked up to her again, smiling and Liz stopped breathing for a moment. He shifted again, bringing his lips closer to hers and neither could keep the smiles from their faces as he brushed his lips against hers. She pressed her palm against the back of his head and pushed him against her and he chuckled, the sound vibrating through their chests. His lips were soft but not hesitant and she met him with equal gentility. She let out a breathy laugh with him, almost giddy and she drew his smiling bottom lip into her mouth, flicking it as he groaned in pleasure. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth and she granted it, meeting each lazy thrust of the muscle with one of her own and his hands cradled her face. She sighed against him when he pulled back some time later when the sun had begun to lighten the horizon outside of her window.

"We should get some sleep," Liz said sadly as she watched the room lighten incrementally.

Max turned his head towards the window and glared at it for a moment before he turned back to her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"It's already morning, maybe we should just stay up."

Liz laughed and rolled her hips against his hardness and he growled playfully at her, grabbing onto her hips as he ground into her.

"It seems someone's up already anyway."

Max growled again and nipped at her jaw before rolling them over so she was on top, moaning when he leaned up to take her nipple between his teeth.

She could definitely get used to this.


	17. Scene XVII

**A/N: **I want to apologise for the long wait between the parts. There really is no excuse, since this is a finished story and all. I know, don't throw tomatoes at me. I'm just super duper busy at uni and with work so I forget sometimes. I'll try to be better, I promise. Thanks for reading, as always, and to those of you who review when you do. You make me smile.

* * *

_I've found a way to make you  
I've found a way  
A way to make you smile_

Liz was humming when she woke from the short one hour nap she'd been allowed that morning. The humming was both physical and metaphorical; her _body _was humming in appreciation of all the good loving it had gotten the night before, while her throat was humming along in appreciation of all the good loving she had gotten the night before. She yawned and stretched, grinning when she heard Max groan against her stomach at her motion. She felt heat flush her cheeks as he peaked up at her from under his bangs and lashes. She could feel his answering smile on her ribs and the gentle laugh he emitted as he nuzzled the underside of her breast with his nose. Liz dropped her hands from above her head and ran them through his tousled hair, sighing in pleasure as Max pressed almost evanescent kisses onto the skin he could reach.

She would quite happily have lain there all day and let Max have his wicked, wicked way with her body but her alarm blared for the second time and she knew she really had to move if she had any hope of getting into work on time.

"You're not leaving," Max murmured against her, ceaseless in his kissing quest and when his lips latched onto her nipple, gently sucking, she was ready to acquiesce to his request. With the intention of pushing him off her body, she slid one leg between his ready to toss him off her and froze at the feel of his very, very hard morning glory against her thigh. Max froze, tensed then let out a long hiss as Liz drew her thigh back across his cock. "Do that again," he said excitedly and Liz laughed, sliding her leg against his cock again and Max dropped his head into the crook of her neck with a quiet moan.

"I'll tell you what," she said against his ear and he drew back, looking at her eagerly. "Let's kill two birds with one stone." He frowned down at her and she quirked an eyebrow. "This," she said and rubbed him again, "and me showering."

He sprang away from her and was halfway down the hall before Liz was even out of bed.

--

When she made it to the kitchen half an hour later, her hair still damp and curling around her shoulders, Max was leaning against the counter watching her as he cradled a mug of coffee in his hands. He grinned lazily at her and handed her a steaming cup which she accepted readily, gulping down two large swallows while trying not to think of what she had swallowed not so very long ago.

"If you don't get that look off your face, you _definitely _won't be going to work today," Max said huskily as he reached out and grabbed onto her hips, pulling her flush against him. He plucked the mug from her hands but she didn't protest and dropped his forehead onto hers, his eyes staring fixedly on her lips. She felt a smile play about on her lips at Max's curious – cute? – behaviour. "Can I kiss you?" He murmured, his eyes rising to meet hers and she had to swallow down the sudden lump in her throat at the intensity of his stare. She nodded, not trusting her voice. Max' hands came up to cradle up face and he tilted her head up from her chin, slowly lowering his lips to hers.

It was slow and warm and just so _right _that Liz felt a distinct prickling behind her eyes that she fought valiantly against. She brushed her tongue against his tentatively, then more surely until they were swirling together in a complex dance that Liz didn't want to end.

Max pulled back long minutes later with a sigh. His arms around her tightened and he pulled her flush against his chest, resting his cheek against the top of her head as his fingers massaged the skin at the small of her back. She purred in contentment and felt his puff of laughter in his chest but she was too content to even consider moving.

Last night... She had waited a long time for that. And while it was confusing, Liz couldn't imagine a better way for her night to have ended. She was glad of the wine and the beer and maybe even for Jose – and certainly for Jesse offering to take her home – but mostly she was glad that she had felt so rejected before any of those delicacies had been thrown her way. Because if she hadn't... Last night wouldn't have happened.

She was still surprised that it had.

"Max?" She asked cautiously a few moments later. He hummed above her and Liz drew her head back slightly, feeling her brow crinkle as she took in his tender expression. "Last night... what was..."

A slow smile stretched across his lips and Liz felt her breath catch in her throat again. Damn him for being so attractive.

"I think that is what they call a night long romp in the sheets."

She quirked an amused eyebrow but instantly shook her head, removing the grin from her face.

"I know but... Why?"

His expression faltered and when she looked back up to his eyes they were more guarded than before and she felt his arms loosen around her. Instantly, she felt chagrined and maybe even a little rejected but she pushed it aside. She watched as he lifted his hand to his face, then scrub his fingers through his hair before meeting her eyes again, his stare obviously confused.

"You asked me to." She quirked a questioning eyebrow and she felt him sigh, and she didn't know what to make of that. She felt him shrug and she hated that he was attempting to be casual about it. "It was you." She watched as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bob up and down and she closed her eyes momentarily. "I find it difficult to refuse you, especially when you ask twice."

She pulled back from him sharply, her eyes snapping open to stare up at him. She flitted between confused and hurt before the hurt won and she dropped her eyes, pressing her palm flat against her forehead.

"You didn't want to?" She asked on a whisper, afraid to hear the answer, sure that he would say no.

Stupid, stupid _Jose Cuervo_. Stupid, stupid Liz Parker.

"No!" She snapped her head up, feeling tears sting her eyes as she met Max's frantic gaze. "That's not... That's not what I meant," he said again as he reached for her wrists, pulling her back towards him. One hand rose to her chin as he urged her to look up at him; she resisted but her was persistent and she met his gaze hesitantly, afraid of what she would see there. "I wanted to," he said quietly, sincerely, looking into her eyes. "I really wanted to. I have for a long, _long_ time."

Liz swallowed and closed her eyes as a wave washed through her. She wasn't sure what it was; relief, love, joy, _pleasure_... She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut before popping them open and staring up at him again.

"Kiss me."

He grinned and lowered his head to hers.

"My, you're a fast learner."

Liz barely got her grin out before his lips were on hers.

--

Lunch time finally rolled around and Liz pushed herself away from the computer screen. The results from the labs hadn't matched up with the control or their expectations and she had been sitting staring at the screen for the past three hours trying to figure out what it was that had gone wrong. The glare had given her sleep deprived brain a headache and her already dry eyes were itchy and sore now. She saved her work and shut the computer down, reaching into the bottom drawer for her bag and pulled out her cell, smiling when she saw she had three text messages and a voicemail.

Two messages were from Max (one about where the sheets were, the other telling her to 'never mind'). The third was from her voicemail telling her she had a voicemail. She rolled her eyes and called her inbox, listening to the automated message tell her Michael had left her message two hours before. She was half way out of her office when the tone of his voice halted her steps and had the blood running cold through her veins.

"I'm picking you up for lunch at one. And then you're going to tell me what the _fuck_ you said to Max to get him to stay _this time_."


	18. Scene XVIII

_I should never think  
What's in your heart  
What's in our home  
So I won't..._

The furious silence in Michael's car was broken only by his hard shifts of the gear shaft and the loud hum of the engine. She watched the city streets zoom by out the window and often caught her own frowning reflection. When she'd gotten into the car, Michael's response to her reserved 'hello' was a snarled "Don't talk until I've stopped driving."

Liz had felt her stomach clench at that and she shot him worried glance after worried glance but he studiously ignored her imploring gaze and continued glaring at the road. She had seen Michael's fury a handful of times and never had it been directed at her; the closest it came to her was when she'd walked in on him and Max throwing punches at one another that summer before they'd all left to go to college – the summer that Max told them that he was gay. It had taken Liz a long time to forgive Michael for the way he treated Max's 'coming out', even after Max's attempts to reassure her that it wasn't what she thought.

Liz felt the car slow and when she looked out the window she saw that they were on the outskirts of town at a little cafe that Liz had heard about but never been to. She unbuckled her seat belt and Michael turned to her, watching as she reached for her bag.

"What?" She questioned warily but he shook his head, averting his eyes from hers to look at the cafe again. He winced in thought and Liz watched the muscles in his jaw tense and relax, over and over again.

"I won't be able to keep my voice down," he said and Liz felt her shoulders sag. Michael's premonition at his temper unnerved her and she racked her mind for any clue as to why he might be this mad at her. "If we go in, I'll no doubt cause a scene so... We can either scene cause, or get a take away and go to a park around the corner."

Liz nodded. "Okay."

Michael shifted in his seat, his face contorting again and she wondered what it was he was trying to say. He took a breath, then another before shaking his head and opening the door to the car. He paused, turning back to her and gave her a shaky smile.

"I'm sorry for kidnapping you," he said almost lightly and she felt his fingers brush the back of her hand.

They didn't make it to the park after Michael brought back their sandwiches and it was only when Liz lifted it to her lips that she realised just how not hungry she was. Her stomach was in knots but she took a bite anyway, mindful of Michael's watchful gaze. She chewed slowly, taking a sip of coffee to help wash down the bread while she watched Michael watch her as he scarfed down his own foot long sub.

"Michael..." she began a few moments later, twisting in her seat to look at him as he wiped his chin with a wad of napkins. He closed his eyes and took a breath but she could see his shoulders tense after only a moment and she swallowed passed the nervous lump in her throat.

"What did you say to get him to stay, Liz?"

Liz frowned at the question – again – and wondered what the hell he was talking about. She thought back to last night and racked her brains, wondering if she had said something – other than the obvious – that would have Michael so furious. Or, was it the obvious that he was furious about? Had Max told him they'd had sex? She couldn't imagine it but she'd given him no reason not to talk to Michael about it. But that begged the question as to why Michael was so furious.

"I haven't said anything to him. Nothing out of the ordinary anyway," she replied diplomatically and in a quiet tone but Michael simply closed his eyes and took another breath. It was a testament to his self-restraint that he was managing to control his temper so well and while the thought should terrify her, she had never felt unsafe around Michael.

"You might not realise you've said it." Liz felt panicked. What did that mean? Had she inadvertently told Max that she had always wanted him? That she'd planned a life for them back in high school? Oh, _God_, what if she'd been talking in her sleep? While rare, it wasn't impossible for her subconscious thoughts to slip passed her lips in the depths of slumber. Michael shifted in his seat, propping his knees on either side of the wheel and dragged a hand through his hair. "Remember that fight you saw Max and I having before we all left for college?" Liz huffed out an incredulous laugh but nodded anyway. The skin around his eyes tightened and he dragged his hand over his face again. "It wasn't about what you think it was about." Liz sighed and nodded.

"I know, Max told me-"

"Did he tell you what it was about?"

Liz shook her head.

"No, he wouldn't tell me. He just told me it wasn't what I-"

"That's because it's not. The guy is like a brother to me Liz, do you think I'd care if he was gay or not?" Liz bit the inside of her lip. "Sure as hell, he surprised me and I may have questioned him but never once did I judge him."

Liz nodded again, wondering if this was going anywhere.

"What was it about then?" She asked when the silence dragged on. Michael looked over to her, his assessing gaze lingering on her face for a moment before he turned back to the windshield.

"What did Max tell you about UCLA?"

Liz guffawed at the abrupt turn of questioning, her mind reeling as she tried to follow Michael's train of thought. It was futile and after a moment of her silence, Michael prodded her again.

"He just said he didn't get in."

"And you _believed_ that?"

Liz felt anger bubble under the surface, mirroring Michael's but she held it in check. She took a calming breath of her own before she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Max had applied to two colleges: Boston University as his back up but his heart had been set on UCLA. He had applied there for a course similar to the one Liz had completed at Harvard but he had been turned down. Liz had never understood why they hadn't accepted him, or why he hadn't applied to Harvard the same as her but had opted to go to Boston to do sports but she whenever she had questioned him he had always told her, in his flirtatious way, that he couldn't stand to be that far away from her and that he didn't want to steal all her thunder by going to Harvard and kicking her ass in all the classes.

"Liz," Michael scoffed out and glared at her. "He had a better GPA than you. Do you really think Harvard would accept you but UCLA wouldn't accept him?"

Liz returned his glare but her mind was reeling. She had thought all of this at the time but combined with Max's casual brush off and her excitement at getting into Harvard and classes starting, she'd never given it much further thought. She had just been glad Max was with her rather than on the other side of the country. Now, she wondered if she had been naive but... _why_ would Max...?

"What are you getting at Michael? Why are you bringing this up now?"

"Max got into UCLA; they offered him a full scholarship." Liz felt like her stomach had dropped out and she felt her eyes bug as she stared at Michael's furious face. Thought fled her and she was left with a blank mind, staring at her childhood friend.

"Why..."

Max had struggled to pay his way through college at Boston because they only offered him a partial scholarship; it was part of the reason they had roomed together as well. That he turned down a full scholarship at the college he wanted... Liz couldn't understand it. She wouldn't understand it. Max had gotten into UCLA but had chosen to go to Boston. She was the one who wanted Boston, not him. He wanted beaches and sun and California while she wanted rain and fog and muddy rivers. She hadn't even applied to UCLA as a back up.

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat but she couldn't. So, speechless, she turned to Michael who was watching her carefully.

"You asked him not to."

Liz sat up straight, one emotion coming to the fore and she spun on Michael, mouth agape, eyes ablaze.

"I did no such thing!" She guffawed.

Michael narrowed his eyes at her.

"Think about it Liz." But she couldn't. She wouldn't. There was _no way_... "We were all sitting right there when you said it. And a week later, Max turned around and told us he was going to Boston – a week later when you walked in on us fighting."

Liz's mind reeled as she stared at Michael incredulously. They had all been there? No, she would remember if she asked Max to come to Boston with her. She hadn't even know he'd gotten into UCLA how could she...

_Oh_.

Oh.

_She giggled and curled up against his side, feeling the effects of the single bottle of beer she'd had. She laid her hand on his chest and peered up to his chiselled features through her eyelashes, smiling when he stroked her hair away from her face._

_"What are you thinking about sweetheart?" He asked quietly and Liz grinned at the endearment before she sighed and dropped her head to his shoulder again, watching her fingers trace the lines of Max's chest through his tee shirt._

_"I'm going to miss you if you go to UCLA," she murmured and she felt Max shift beneath her. She giggled again. "Come to Boston with me Max," she said dramatically, pushing herself away from his body and straddled his hips. She watched as his eyes widened, his hands going to her hips to steady her but she had a firm grasp of his chest under her palms. "Come live in the rain and we'll have tea parties and I'll gloat when I kick your ass in class," she giggled as she playfully slapped his chest._

_"You want me to leave behind the sunny shores of LA and come to Boston with you?"_

_She rolled her eyes, laughing and she weaved her fingers into his hair, watching as his eyes flickered over her face._

_"Well I don't like the idea of you being all the way on the other side of the country Max. Besides, who'll keep you out of trouble all the way over there?"_

_Her hips tingled where his fingers drew little circles on them and she wished that he actually meant it the way she wanted him to mean it. She pushed those thoughts aside._

_"You could come to LA with me," he replied, contemplatively and Liz laughed loudly at that._

_"I could," she murmured thoughtfully, a smile tugging at her lips. "But I burn." He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her fully against him. She sighed when he buried his head in her neck and she took a whiff of his skin before pressing her forehead to his neck. "I'll miss you," she said again and Max's grip tightened around her for a moment._

_"I'll miss you too."_

"I was kidding!" Liz exclaimed, unbidden tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. "I was kidding..." she repeated, dropping her head into her hands.

"I know. We all knew you were kidding. Even Max knew you didn't mean it but..."

_"You asked me to." She quirked a questioning eyebrow and she felt him sigh, and she didn't know what to make of that. She felt him shrug and she hated that he was attempting to be casual about it. "It was you." She watched as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bob up and down and she closed her eyes momentarily. "I find it difficult to refuse you, especially when you ask twice."_

"That's why I had such a hard time believing... I'm not saying Max didn't love John but..." He trailed off and Liz peered over to him, not wanting to even consider what it was he saying. "It was you, Liz." She clenched her eyes shut and tried to keep the plug that she'd inserted years before in place. She couldn't deal with this, not when she was already shaky from last night. She... she... "I think he was looking for any excuse to come to Boston with you."

Liz heaved a shaky sigh, felt more tears run down her cheeks but she couldn't stop it. There was no way... She couldn't... Her mind was jammed; thought processing was backed up and it was all clogged in the back of her throat, bursting out of her mouth in heavy sobs.

"But... Why?"

Michael looked at her sadly, his lips turned down at the corners and Liz gulped again, shuddering in her seat.

"You know why," he said quietly and Liz looked up to him, shaking her head.

"I can't deal with this, take me back."

Michael shook his head ardently and reached out to grab onto her shoulders. She tensed beneath him and he pulled his hands away as though she had burned him, his eyes wide.

"Did I hurt you?" She shook her head and he sighed in relief, running a hand over his face as he turned back to the windshield. Liz watched his profile, as his features shifted above his muscles. She concentrated on the line of his nose, the gentle pout of his lips because she knew that if she concentrated on what she really should be concentrating on, she'd break. The wall would come down, the plug would come out and she'd be right back to where she was eight years ago. She couldn't go back there. "That's why I need you to think about everything you've said to him that would even hint that you don't want him to go."

Liz sat up at that and turned to Michael, frowning.

"Go where?"

He snapped his head around to look at her, his face incredulous as he scanned her features.

"You've got to be kidding me," he roared, thumping his hands down on the steering wheel, the horn blaring under the pressure. He thumped a few more times, murmuring curses under his breath as he pounded his fists on his baby. "Maxwell Evans, you are a fucking idiot."

Liz reached out to touch him, frantic and he turned to her.

"Michael, is Max going somewhere?"

He laughed but it wasn't a kind sound and Liz shrunk away from him. He noticed and managed to reign in his manic laughter but he took his hands in hers and turned to face her, his face a curious concoction of fear, disappointment, incredulity and anger. His touch was gentle. His shoulders tense.

"Liz, Max was offered a job." She nodded. She knew this. He told her he wasn't sure about it. Oh God. She closed her eyes, waiting for it. "They want him to tutor the football squad and be a part time talent scout." She clenched her eyes; Max's dream job. A combination of his two favourite subjects – his intellect and his body. Fuck.

His hesitance to tell her about the job offer. That morning he'd rejected her.

_"Don't start something you're not going to finish."_

_Liz smirked and drew her hand away from him, wondering what the hell she was doing._

_"Who said I wasn't going to finish it?"_

-

_"It took every ounce of my willpower to tell you no,_ _just now." Liz tilted her head in his direction, surprised by his words. "I just don't... I don't think it's a good idea to... to_..."

To start something they couldn't finish because he wasn't going to be there. Stupid, stupid man. Had he decided to go and the changed his mind? Had he been swithering? Why had he not told her? Why, why, why? Oh God.

"Where?" She asked quietly, her fists clenching in Michael's grip. He returned the pressure.

"San Francisco."

_"I find it difficult to refuse you, especially when you ask twice."_

"Oh."

_"You want me to leave behind the sunny shores of LA and come to Boston with you?"_

"So, whatever it is that you said to him... he said he wants to stay."

_"Are we doing this?" He whispered as he stroked his fingers over her stomach, the muscles contracting beneath his touch._

_He ran her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck and traced the column of his neck with her index finger, watching as he bent his neck for her touch._

_"We already are doing this."_

Fuck.


	19. Act II, Scene I

Act II, Scene I

Max was surprised by brightness of the room when he awoke. He had gotten used to the perpetual gray of late fall months and he knew he would hate it when winter did eventually roll in. He had never really been one for the cold, or the wet and this September weather was killing him. He tugged the duvet up around his chin and lay quietly, letting his body adjust to being awake. He could hear the sounds of life from down the hall and he took in a deep breath and could almost taste the coffee on his tongue. It was almost enough to tempt him from bed.

Almost.

He ducked his head back under the duvet and closed his eyes for a couple of minutes.

He was awoken by a heavy weight being dropped across his torso and he groaned, pushing at it while simultaneously pulling at the duvet that the evil fiend was trying to pull off him. He grumbled and struggled but eventually light and cold air wafted into his warm sanctuary and he tossed the duvet back dramatically and glared maniacally.

"Seriously, Tess, what the fuck?" He groaned as he blinked against the brightness.

"You were supposed to get up forty minutes ago, you lazy ass now get up."

Max groaned and flopped back onto the bed, arms spread eagled by his head and he shook his head from side to side, not daring to look at the clock on his bedside table. He was supposed to be meeting Paul at the gym what was now ten minutes ago. Damn.

"I told you I had to get up early this morning, why did you make me drink so much?"

Tess levelled him with a stare and quirked her delicate eyebrow. Her blue eyes turned icy in a moment but the small smirk playing around her lips gave her away. He returned her glare.

"I may have taken you to the bar but at no point did I force alcohol down your throat."

"You may as well have." Tess shrugged and swung her legs off the bed, straightening her gym clothes out before reaching down and tugging the duvet clean off the bed and Max whined; for such a tiny person, she was deceptively strong. "It's a good thing I don't sleep naked," Max grumbled as he slowly sat up, running a hand through his hair.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, sugar buns," Tess quirked and Max sneered at her as she flounced out of the room, her blond curls bouncing behind her as she went. "We're running down to Baker Beach this morning so set your iPod onto the second playlist I made for you."

Max just grumbled as he stood at the side of the bed, stretching his arms about his head.

"You could at least feed me first, woman!"

Like he expected, Tess didn't answer him.

--

Normally the run didn't bother Max but when his sweat smelled like alcohol and his head felt like it was going to explode with every drop of his foot on the sidewalk it was getting to him more than usual. They didn't usually run so late in the morning – usually they were up and out before the sun broke the horizon – and the streets were getting busy with eager tourists wanting to take in the sights of San Fran. It was probably the only thing he didn't like about his choice of locale and if it had been up to him, he'd have chosen an abode a little further out of the centre but, as it was, it was just too convenient for him to be close to the centre.

Ahead of him, Tess was pulling away, her tight body vibrating along the paving stones and Max thought about just stopping where he was to wait for her to come back up. Instead, he palmed his iPod looking for the skip button and flicked through a couple of songs before setting back on pace. The day was bright and he wished he had picked up his sunglasses before heading out.

A group of tourists stepped out from a hotel and stopped on the sidewalk and Max had to skirt around them, smiling tightly to a few women who turned as he passed by them. He couldn't imagine he looked any kind of attractive in that moment with his longer than normal hair pushed back from his face with a hair band, his chin decorated with days old grizzle or his shirt sticking to his body with alcoholic sweat.

Liz had used to laugh at him for his running gear but-

He wasn't thinking of that. He felt the impact of the pavement up his shins and he realised he'd increased the tempo of his running. He forced himself to slow down and skipped the ACDC song that was blaring in his ears; he settled on some classic Meatloaf and found his head bobbing along to the music as he turned the corner and the sparkling sea appeared in front of him with the bridge looming high above it. He smiled, despite the wheezing noises coming out of his chest, at the sight before him.

Apparently, his momentary lapse in control had opened the flood gates because he thought, again, about Liz and what she would think of San Francisco, about Tess and his job. He thought about calling her and was glad that he didn't have his cell with him. It was always that way when they took this route; the way the sea opened up before him triggered something and he couldn't stop thinking about her until Tess clipped him about the head and dragged him to some inane sporting event until his voice was hoarse from cheering and his mind was blank with adolescent/caveman glee. In recent weeks, it had gotten better but it had been a few days since they'd taken this route and he'd not had time to mentally prepare himself for the onslaught before turning. It didn't help that he'd been dreaming about her the night before, or that he'd been thinking about her moments before.

He channelled his frustration into running and he could see that he was gaining on Tess as they descended a steep slope. His lungs started to burn but he didn't ease up until he was once again by her side. She turned to him, surprised, but smiled. She turned away but snapped her head back towards him and looked back at his face. He tried to turn away but he caught the frustrated glare on her face before he could. He met her eyes and shook his head once and focussed back on the path in front of them.

Tess didn't like it when he thought about Liz.


	20. Act II, Scene II

Max shielded his eyes from the low sun as he tucked his scarf tighter around his neck. The team he was watching were lacking in spark; the quarterback wasn't leading the team, and neither was their coach but Max could see their potential. He made a few mental notes and continued to watch the line and the passes, thinking about when he had used to play football back in college. It seemed like such a long time ago, when he'd been on the field and Liz, Maria and Serena would be in the stands jumping and screaming after him and Michael.

He sighed and shook his head.

Rationally, he knew it was okay to miss Liz – she had, after all, been his best friend. He'd spent most of his life with her. But he couldn't now think of Liz without thinking about how royally screwed up everything had gotten. He had wanted her – he secretly believes that he had always wanted her, despite being gay – and when she'd asked him (not once, but twice) he had been helpless to resist. He had thought she wanted it too. He'd known she did but apparently, only as a one time thing.

And she'd had the audacity to be mad at _him_ for wanting to actually try and make a go of it. Because if there was anyone he wanted to make it work with, it was her. Especially after the sex. God, that night – that one night – had been... it had been heaven and hell all at once. Heaven to participate in, hell to try and forget. A part of him is certain that he doesn't actually want to forget it.

He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease some of the tension that was creeping up from his shoulders.

And that was why he didn't let himself think about Liz Parker.

"Hey Max, what's up?"

A freshman moved across the bleachers towards Max and he was surprised to see him out of the game.

"Nothing. What happened to you?"

The freshman – Chuck, maybe – rolled his eyes as he plopped down next to Max and leaned back against the bench behind him.

"Went over on my ankle; coach doesn't want to push me too early in the season. It's fine, though." Max nodded and looked back down to the game. They were sitting around on the ground stretching out and Max realised he'd completely missed the last fifteen minutes of training. "You sure you're all right man? You seemed pretty out of it."

Max smiled again and turned to the kid beside him, nodding.

"Yeah. I was just thinking."

"Women troubles?"

Max snorted but shook his head and laughed slightly.

"Something like that."

After a few minutes of conversation and a promise from Chuck to actually do his coursework on time this week, Max was left alone on the bleachers to think. The sky was quickly darkening as the winter sun began to set but he made no move to leave.

He had been in San Francisco for almost four months and, aside from Tess, had told no one of his sexuality. It wasn't that he was ashamed of being gay; he just wasn't sure he was anymore. Since Liz, it seemed like he was asexual. He hadn't looked at another man. Or woman. He hadn't wanted another person. He and Tess had fumbled about a little one night after too many bottles of wine and he had felt nothing. _Nothing_. And Tess was hot. He'd made out with a few guys in various bars across the west coast but it had never felt quite right.

So he let his new friends and colleagues believe what they wanted. He supposed, in a sense, he should be glad that people were trying to set him up, or ask him out – that meant that they cared, right? And he really wanted to be with someone; he hadn't gone this long without any kind of action since he first had sex and it was _killing_ him. But the thought of having sex with someone other than Liz? Nope. Nuh-uh. He _wanted_ to; he just _couldn't_.

His cell vibrated in his pocket and he fished it out, his eyebrows rising involuntarily at the number that flashed across his screen.

"Hey Ser," he said brightly as he answered. It had been too long since he had spoken to her – maybe even as long as a month ago. "What's up?"

"Just calling for a chat, cutie." He smiled and leaned back against the bench, ignoring the biting wind that whipped up out of nowhere and stung his cheeks. "Where you at in the world?"

"Just in San Francisco for now," he replied. He'd travelled a lot in the first few weeks, just to make contacts and meet with team coaches across the western area but with semesters coming to a close for winter break, he'd been in San Francisco trying to keep his school's boys on the straight and narrow.

"I'm going to cut to the chase here because I'll be honest, Kyle is sucking on my neck and it's turning me on." Max guffawed into the phone and Serena laughed. "Are you coming home for Christmas?"

Max flinched slightly at that, bristling a little.

"Which home?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Isabel is going to be in Roswell for Christmas this year, I was going to fly down and spend the break with them."

"Oh." There was a noise like a low thump and Max could hear Kyle cursing; Serena must have pushed him off and Max laughed at that. "That's okay."

Max frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh! No! I just meant... I didn't think you'd come back here and since Michael is staying with Maria this year, I didn't want you to be alone; Kyle and I were going to offer to come over and spend time with you."

Max was more than aware of how obviously she had left Liz out of the list but he didn't comment. He was glad his friends hadn't taken sides. He smiled into the phone.

"Thanks, Ser, but I think I'll head to Roswell. I haven't seen Is in... forever."

"No, that's okay. Was just a suggestion." There was a sigh and Max copied it. "I miss you Max. We all do." He snorted instantly and then groaned quietly at his reaction. "She does."

"Yeah well, she knows where I am." He huffed. "If she misses me so much, why hasn't she called?"

"You haven't given her your new number."

Max snorted again. What a piss-ass excuse. He shook his head.

"It wouldn't be too difficult to ask one of you for it."

Serena sighed and Max regretted instantly putting her in the middle of his squabbles but she responded before he could apologise.

"_You_ didn't give her your number. If that's not a sign that you don't want to talk to her, then I don't know what is. She thinks so, too. She's giving you space."

Max huffed again and pushed himself forcefully off the bench, stopping down the metal stairs.

"It doesn't even matter. She didn't even say goodbye before I left so it's her own fault."

"Max-"

"I have to go Serena." He hung up before she could respond. At the bottom of the steps he stopped and spun around quickly in a circle, half tempted to stomp his feet. Instead, he kicked at the bottom step, revelling in the instant sting of pain that shot through his toe. There was a reason he didn't think about Liz, let alone talk about her. And talking to Serena had ripped the proverbial band aid off and all the pain and anger came rushing forward all at once, with no direction and nowhere to go. He jumped up and down a few times, trying to expel the energy. He kicked at the bottom step again and again until his foot was numb. "Fuck!"

He flopped down onto the dented bottom step and dropped his head into his hands but he refused to lash out anymore. It hadn't did him any good four months ago and it certainly wouldn't now. He may not understand why, but Liz Parker didn't want him. And he had to get the hell over her.


	21. Act II, Scene III

A/N: Has ties to Act I, Scene IV of this story... It's what gives it it's meaning :) Hope you all figure it out ;)

**Part Twenty-One**

Max slammed the screen of his laptop down with a little too much gusto but he was up on his feet and moving across the room to his cupboard in search of his sneakers before he even thought about it. He jammed his feet into his sneakers and quickly tied a double knot, grabbing his sweatshirt on the way out the door. He didn't even bother warming up and set off down the street at a pace that was much too fast.

An e-card. A fucking _e-card_.

Who _the fuck_ sends e-cards?

And a jingly one at that. Not even a cute one. Not a sentimental one. No, no. One that _jingled_ and would have been as well coming from one of the receptionists at the University rather than someone who was supposed to have been his best friend for the best part of two decades. Fucker. Who the fuck did she think she was? At least he'd had the decency to write her a proper Christmas card, with little kisses under his name and everything. And what did he get for his trouble? A fucking electronic, jingling card, signed 'Liz' that was so impersonal it had been sent to his fucking junk mail folder.

Fucking e-cards.

It was only when he put his hand in his pocket to press play on his iPod that Max realised he hadn't brought it, and then a further ten seconds to realise that it was absolutely pouring with rain and given how far he was from his home, he had been out in it for a good twenty minutes. He was surprised that rain was even landing on him rather than evaporating given how hot his face probably was from his anger.

He slowed to a stop outside of a building that could maybe be a library, possibly a museum and sank down onto the steps outside the main door. He was already soaked; there was no need to try and keep dry now. He swiped the soaked bangs from his forehead and cradled his head in his hands for a few minutes as he regulated his breathing.

He was annoyed. That was a given. He'd been on the verge of deleting his junk box without even looking but something had told him he had better check just in case. He almost wished he hadn't because then he wouldn't have known that she'd sent that hideous, impersonal message to him and he'd have been spared the cold he was no doubt going to get from his almost midnight run. He just... couldn't believe it. He'd decided to be the bigger person and send her a card the week before. He hadn't expected anything in return; he just wanted to let her know that he'd been thinking about her and that he still cared about her, despite everything that went down.

And she had pretty much just thrown it back in his face with her ridiculous e-card-of-nothingness. He was sure that, despite everything, he still meant something to her. Even a tiny thing. Even if it was just a shared past and not a present or future. But, apparently he'd been wrong. Or rather, he'd been right in guessing that she hadn't felt the same way he had about her.

A fucking _e-card_.

Abso-fucking-lutely ridiculous.

He shook his head and rose.

He'd did his part. She had said her piece. Maybe he could finally let it – let her – go.

--

"An _e-card_, Michael! A fucking e-card! I mean, who the hell actually sends those? Is that all I mean to her? A quick glance through Hallmark for the tackiest piece of tack she can find? I mean... Fuck!"

Michael sighed on the other end of the line and Max dropped back into his recliner.

"I don't see what the big deal is. At least she sent you something; she could have just ignored you completely."

Max sighed.

"I think I might have preferred that."

Michael chuckled darkly and Max closed his eyes, scrubbing his hand down his face as he stared out at the dawn.

"You're a sick fuck, Maxwell." Max didn't respond. "But I think you know that already."

"Whatever, Michael."

"Look... Liz obviously has her reasons. But to me, the most obvious one is that she doesn't have your address."

Max let out an incredulous laugh at that.

"Really Michael? That's the best you could come up with?" He didn't wait for a response. "I sent her a card, Michael."

"Yeah, with no return address."

Max paused.

Oh. Yeah. _Right_. He hadn't added his address to any of the cards he'd sent out, mainly because everyone knew his return address. Well, almost everyone.

"Yeah," Michael drawled and Max growled. "Look, I get that maybe an e-card wasn't the best idea but she's just as stubborn as you are and since you haven't given any indication that you want her to contact you, I think it's pretty fucking miraculous that she sent you anything at all."

"But an e-card, Michael?"

There was a long silence and Max could imagine Michael lifting his eyebrow as he glared at Max. Max huffed.

"Was it at least funny?"

Max tried to remember. He hadn't really thought about it, too pissed off to even acknowledge much about it other than its impersonal nature and tacky design. He winced and sighed, shaking his head.

"I don't know." Michael snorted. "Shut up, Michael," he grumbled and hung up amidst Michael's raucous laughter. He dropped his phone onto the sofa beside him and looked over at his laptop on the desk in the corner. After a moment of thought, he was over at it, powering it up. As he waited, he tapped idly on the keys, rubbing marks off the screen. Typing in his password, the screen opened up as he had left it. He took a breath, his finger hovering over the scroll button. Would it be funny? Did he want it to be? He sighed and pressed down, scrolling back up to the top of the screen and pressed the 'Play' button in the corner. The video box opened and he choked out a laugh at the jiggling Christmas tree on display in front of him.

He watched for almost a full minute as the tree danced around the screen, jingling Christmas tunes to him. At least it was funny.

He was about to click the "X" to close the window when the screen changed again and his heart skipped... quite a few beats. The smile that spread across his lips kick started his heart and he let out a strangled laugh and stared at the screen for a few more minutes before closing it down.

"To my husband, at Christmas."


	22. Act II, Scene IV

_This love is a strange love  
A faded kind of mellow_

Christmas was a strange affair. It was the first one for as long as he could remember that he hadn't shared with Liz, or that he'd gone back to Roswell for. Isabel had been back for almost a week by the time he'd landed and the house looked like the Christmas Nazi had taken control of the decorations.

"Dad went a little overboard with the garden, don't you think?" She asked as she approached with a bottle of beer in her hands. Sitting in the large overstuffed chair in the lounge, Max had been staring out of the window at the garden for almost an hour without actually looking at the garden. He nodded anyway and smiled to his sister, accepting the bottle she offered; it had been too long since he had last seen her. "I like it though."

Max quirked an eyebrow.

"You didn't change any of the layout at all?"

She hid her smile by turning her head away to look out of the window with him and Max smirked, shaking his head slightly.

"Well, maybe a little." She perched on the window sill, the street lights illuminating her features with an amber glow that was strangely flattering and Max thought that her photographer might like the profile shot of her. He shook the thought away and sighed. "I didn't get to decorate my apartment in Berlin," she said and Max quirked an eyebrow at her. "Too busy and I knew I'd get to do it here so..."

Max smiled, reaching out his hand to touch her elbow. She looked down to him with a soft smile and Max looked away. He'd missed his sister, while she'd been gone. He took in her complexion; paler than when he'd last seen her but she looked happy. He smiled for her.

"You should come back to San Francisco with me for a couple of days before you head home." She hesitated and when Max tried to meet her gaze, she avoided it. His breath hitched. "What?"

"I'm going to Boston," she said quietly, looking at him from the corner of her eye and Max felt all the breath leave him in one long woosh.

"Oh," he said stupidly and looked away from her apologetic features.

"I thought you could come with me?"

"I don't have time," he answered shortly and held his breath as he heard her move.

They were silent for a long time after that, just watching the soft fluttering of snow out of the window, listening to the carollers who were strolling the deserted Christmas Eve streets.

"I spoke to Liz," Isabel said sometime later and Max turned to stare at her, silent. "She told me what happened."

"Really?" He hadn't meant to sound as condescending as he did and Isabel raised her eyebrow but he didn't apologise.

"Yes." She stared at him for a long moment. "You're an idiot-"

"You're taking her side, too then?" He guffawed and turned his sharp gaze back to her; she reflected it back, much more effectively but he didn't stop. "Did she tell you everything? About how she didn't speak to me _at all_ for four days after it happened? How she stayed at Maria's and refused to talk to me and when she eventually did, she kicked me out of her apartment? Did she tell you that I had to ask _Michael_ what the hell was going on because she was too stubborn to tell me herself?" He asked, finding himself standing in front of Isabel as she stared up at him in quiet shock. "Or did she just tell you what an idiot I am for doing exactly what she wanted me to do, then not understanding why she suddenly didn't want anything to do with me?" He scoffed and shook his head. "I'm not in the wrong here; all I ever did was try and do what was best for her, what I thought she wanted and what? What did it get me? I'm living on the other side of the country from my friends, friends who took her side because she's the one who went crying to them with her sob story. I just don't understand how I ended up being the bad guy in all of this."

Isabel quirked her eyebrow.

"Are you finished?" He glared at her but nodded, sliding into his seat again. "Because all I was going to say is that you're an idiot for not telling me you broke up with John or that you'd moved to the other side of the country but now I'm seeing there's a whole story that I'm missing here."

Max closed his eyes and sank back into the chair, shaking his head.

"It doesn't matter."

She slid off the window sill and crouched down in front of him, resting her hands on his knees in an unusually sisterly fashion. Max looked to his sister and smiled.

"Obviously it does if you're still this worked up about it." Max scrunched his nose up but didn't speak. "Did you guys have a fight?"

Max huffed but shook his head, thought about it then shrugged.

"We had sex." Isabel's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open and Max smirked at the knowledge that he could still do that to her after all this time. "And then she kicked me out."

"What did you do?"

Max rolled his eyes.

"Why do you assume I did something wrong?"

Isabel raised her eyebrow again.

"Because you've never had sex with a girl before and-"

"The sex was fine, trust me." Isabel nodded and he wondered whether or not to continue. Was this weird? Yeah, because who really wants to talk about sex with their sister? "Michael told her that I got into UCLA."

Isabel's mouth formed an 'O' shape and Max narrowed his eyes at her.

"She didn't take it well, I guess?" Max glared at her pointedly. "I told you she wouldn't"

"Which is why I never _told_ her." Isabel sighed. "Look, none of this matters anymore; she made it quite clear..."

"What is the big deal anyway?" Isabel asked as she rose from her haunches and made her way back to her perch. "I've been telling you to fuck her for years, just to get it out of your system." Max glared at her again. "Isn't it better now that you did it?"

Max sighed and shook his head.

"I didn't just _fuck_ her Isabel." He dropped his head into his hand and scrubbed his eyes with his knuckles.

"You love her."

He scoffed.

"Of course I do."

"You know what I mean."

Max looked up.

"Yes, I do and I do."

"Always have?" Max shrugged. Isabel rolled her eyes, suddenly back to way Max was used to her. "Michael was right."

"What?"

"You _are_ an idiot." Max glared at her but couldn't think of anything to say that hadn't already passed between them. His brain was switched off and he just didn't even _want_ to think. Not about any of it. "You just need to be a little more selfish."

Max frowned up at his sister and wondered, not for the first time, how it was that they were actually related.

"What do you mean?"

Isabel shrugged.

"Take what you want." Max frowned again. "Do you even know what you want?"

Max thought about it. Did he know what he wanted? All of his life, he'd just existed. He took opportunities when they offered themselves to him. The one thing he had ever truly wanted, he had given up for Liz. He had wanted John – but did that really count? He had gone to Boston University because it was convenient for his plan to stay close to Liz, not because he really wanted to. He moved in with John because it was convenient for the rent, not because he wanted to. When was the last time he'd ever really wanted anything? He supposed that taking the job had been doing something he had wanted to do – but if that was true, then why had he been so conflicted about it? If he had wanted it, surely he would have taken it without thought instead of spending weeks agonising over it only to have the decision he made turned on its head by...

He took a sharp breath and closed his eyes.

"There it is," Isabel said, sounding satisfied and when Max opened his eyes she was smiling down at him.

Was Liz what he really wanted? Had she always been? Everything he had ever done had revolved around her, and what she wanted. When she'd started dating Soren, he'd started dating John. When she'd wanted him to move in, he did. When she asked him for sex, he gave it to her. Not because he wanted to but because _she_ wanted to. What did that mean?

He wanted to make Liz happy.

The thought struck him suddenly and sharply and a part of his mind rejoiced that he had _finally_ caught up with what it had been trying to tell him for many, many years.

But what did it mean?

Was it natural to want to give up everything for one person? Because right now, he would give it all up if she asked him to, without thought.

It was a thought that scared him.

He'd did it once before and he'd survived but could he do it again? Did she deserve him to do it again? Hadn't he sacrificed enough of himself for her? Didn't he deserve something in return?

The anger resurfaced then, bitter and cruel and he let out an dark laugh.

He'd given up so much for her, yet when the time came for her to return the favour... she had given up on him, on them. Had given up _nothing_ of herself for him while he had, only days before, given up everything he had wanted – for her – _again_.

"It's not a nice thought, wanting to be selfish is it?" Isabel said after an uncountable amount of time and Max shook his head in the negative. His thoughts flashed and swirled like the falling snow outside and he couldn't calm the driving wind behind them. Isabel's words had set loose a hurricane and nothing he could do would stop it. "Come on," Isabel said and took his hand in hers, pulling him to his feet. "Mom wants us to get ready for the service."

He followed her through the house and when he reached his bedroom he sat on the edge of his bed. He thought for a moment then looked to the phone on the nightstand. He glanced between it and the pictures of him and Liz on the walls and tables and shelves in his old room, contemplating.

He lunged for the phone and dialled the number, wondering if he was doing the right thing.


	23. Act II, Scene V

Part Twenty-Three

Days after the more than slightly anti-climactic call to Liz's voicemail, Max was still thinking about it. He wasn't sure if he was glad her cell had been off, or annoyed. For the first time in months, he'd been ready to talk to her but the choice had been taken away from him. He'd grumbled and brooded throughout the Christmas service in the park much to his mother's annoyance but he simply didn't care. Christmas without Liz just hadn't been the same.

Because of this moroseness, he found himself huddled together in a small plastic chair in the airport, the day before New Year's Eve, waiting on a plane to take him back to San Francisco. He'd missed his little apartment and his own space almost as much as he missed the ability to lie in of a morning without hi sister breathing down his neck and demanding they do this and that and then something else.

His cell chirped in his pocket for the second time in ten minutes and he thought to ignore it again but the glare from the woman across from him had him fishing into his pocket and flipping the cell open once he'd recognised Michael's number.

"Maxwell, how's it going?" Max made a noise and glared at the woman across him who'd made him answer the phone. All he wanted was five minutes of peace. "That good, huh?" Max made another sound and Michael chuckled. "I'm just seeing when you'll be home?"

Max sat up straighter at that.

"Why?" He asked and it was only once the word was out of his mouth that he realised it was a little harsher than he'd intended.

"Keep your panties on, dude. I'm going to send out your Christmas present today but you need to be there to sign for it."

Max sighed at that and relaxed back into his chair. He didn't know what he'd expected but he was glad it was just a gift.

"What is it?"

Michael sighed roughly and Max bit back the smirk. Michael didn't like to be questioned and Max knew it. He often used it against his best friend.

"It's just a painting I did for you that Maria insisted I send out to you because your apartment is no doubt colourless and lacking any sense of style."

Max snorted at that but didn't disagree. Tess had tried to get him to change the boring beige on the walls but Max was never in his apartment long enough for him to care about home furnishings. If he could afford it, he'd probably be better off staying in a local hotel like he did when he was travelling. Or maybe a dorm on campus, like he'd been offered, but it had reminded him too much of college in Boston and Liz. There were a few pictures on shelves, a cushion here or there courtesy of Maria and mail order ordering.

Max would be glad of some colour.

"I'm actually at the airport right now. I'll be home before tomorrow."

"Cool. I'll send it off just now then."

Max nodded although his friend couldn't see him.

"Did you have a good holiday?" Max asked, deciding to shuck the grumpy exterior. He really did miss his friends, no matter how he tried to deny it. And Michael's show of friendship just reminded him how much.

"I had a good time. Wasn't the same without you man but don't tell Maria." Max laughed and shook his head. While he'd had a good time, he could agree that it wasn't the same. He missed Liz's crazy cooking and the gift exchange hour before dinner. There was a pause and Max knew what was coming. "Liz had... a harder time than the rest of us," Michael said eventually, quietly as though he was sharing state secret and Max wondered if he'd been warned not to tell Max how much Liz hadn't enjoyed herself.

Max's initial reaction was to ignore Michael's comment, or to brush it aside with a gruff remark but he swallowed it down and fought for the same sentimental guy he'd been on Christmas Eve when he'd tried calling her.

"Yeah," he said quietly and looked down to his jean clad thighs. "I tried calling her on Christmas Eve but her cell was off."

Michael was silent for a long moment and Max knew he was probably more than a little surprised by Max's confession. Max had, after all, sworn never to speak to Liz ever again. Or at least, not make the first move.

"Really?" Max made an affirmative noise and he heard Michael expel a breath. "She'll be glad to hear that," Michael said slowly, warily and Max let out his own held breath.

"You can tell her if you want, Michael."

Max could imagine Michael nodding on the other end of the line.

"She really has been having a hard time with this, man," Michael said quietly and Max winced. The last thing he had ever wanted to do was hurt Liz. But she'd hurt him, too. "Anyway," Michael said loudly and jovially and Max shook his shoulders to try and rid them of the weight that had descended on them.

"Yeah," Max said lightly and looked back up to the screen to see that he'd been called to his gate. "I better go, we're about to start boarding."

"Okay. You should have your painting no later than tomorrow evening."

"DHL?" Max asked and Michael agreed. "Okay, I'll see you soon."

"You better."

Max flipped his phone closed and lifted his carry-on bag from the floor at his feet. As he walked to the gate, he couldn't help but wish he was heading for a different destination.


	24. Act II, Scene VI

**Part Twenty-Four**

Max eyed the painting with a frown. _So much for adding a splash of colour to his walls_. He looked to the beige canvas of his walls and then back to the black and red... mixture on the huge canvas Michael had sent to him. He growled. It wouldn't go – and not just in the living room where he wanted to hang it. It wouldn't go in any of the rooms in his whole God damn apartment without him applying a lick of paint to the walls in at least one room. He assumed that had been Maria's intention all along.

He sighed and covered the painting with the protective tarp he'd bought for it, leaned it against the wall and then sulked in front of his window. The gloom had settled in and he found that, ridiculously, he missed the snow. He'd wanted to escape the snow and the festive cheer of Roswell and here he was, alone on New Year's Eve wishing more than anything that he was at home with his family or his friends. He hated the holidays, which was a new development; he used to love the holidays. Very much in fact. Until this year when he was left alone.

His cell rang and he seriously contemplated letting it go to voicemail but he thought that might be counterproductive to him not being alone over the holidays. He lunged for it, far too eager and he frowned at Tess' chirpy greeted once he picked up.

"Beautiful Max," she said with a slight slur and Max knew then that she had started her own celebrations much earlier in the day. "Beautiful, beautiful Max; I have a beautiful, beautiful man here called _Jason."_

Max chuckled at that and looked to the clock. It was nine-thirty; he still had plenty of time to get hammered before the bells struck midnight. If she didn't invite him, he was inviting himself.

"That's nice, Tess," he said instead, the humour still evident in his voice and he marvelled at how quickly his mood had changed since moments before. "Have fun with him."

Tess giggled and he could hear an indistinguishable male voice in the background: Jason, apparently.

"No, silly. Beautiful Jason wants to meet beautiful Max." She giggled again and Max thought about it. "He's heard _big_ things about you." There wasn't any harm in it; if the guy wasn't butt ugly, at least he'd have someone to kiss when the ball dropped at midnight. "I could send him over if you want." Max could almost imagine her wiggling her eyebrows.

"That's not necessary."

"Oh, Max, don't be such a boooorrrre! _Live a little_."

Max chuckled again and stretched his legs out in front of him as he fingered the tarp covering his newest gift.

"Where are you?" He said into the receiver as he watched the tarp slide off the painting. He looked at it. From this angle, if he tilted his head slightly, he could almost make out two bodies...

"R-Kaos! Are you coming? I bet you'll _come_ tonight, Max."

"I will come _to_ R-Kaos, but it doesn't necessarily mean I'll come _in_ R-Kaos." He even smirked at that one himself.

"Oh, Max, you're funny!" She giggled again and Max smiled; Tess had been exactly what he'd needed tonight. Maybe this Jason guy could be good for him tonight as well.

In the corner of the painting, he saw letters scratched into it that he'd missed before. He tilted his head again, reading them. What? That didn't make...

_Xamzil_.

He snorted and rolled his eyes. He wondered if that label had anything to do with Maria, too.

"Nikola will come and pick you up she says – be ready in half an hour!"

When Max hung up from Liz, he opened a new message to Michael, rolling his eyes as he did so.

**Subtle**.

He looked back to the collision of black and red and let his eyes savour it. It was quite passionate, definitely intimate despite the stark contrast of the colours. It fit him and Liz perfectly. He wanted to hate Michael for that but found that he couldn't. His phone vibrated in his hand, Michael's reply coming quickly:

**I thought you'd like it. Happy New Year**.

Max smiled and replied with the same sentiments before flipping his phone closed and whipping off his shirt.

In the shower he thought about the painting Michael had sent him; Xamzil. They had been a collision once; a beautiful disaster. He thought back to that night, to the only night he had ever been inside a woman – inside Liz – and he wondered if they had looked anything like the entanglement of limbs and hair and kisses and touches that he'd conjured in his mind. His cock twitched in his hand and as he imagined Liz riding him, her nipple in his mouth while his cock impaled her over and over. He came hard and fast, his cum dripping down the walls with the shower water.

He sighed. At least he'd have his memories.

In his bedroom, he tugged on a pair of dark wash, fitted jeans and rifled through his wardrobe for a top as he dragged a towel through his hair, sending droplets of water down his neck and back and chest. The doorbell rang and he called out for her to wait two minutes and when he stood, his unbuttoned jeans slid down his hips slightly. Rubbing the towel through his hair while hiking his jeans up, Max had a hard time manoeuvring the latch to open the door.

When he did, the towel dropped from his hand and he stared at the person who was most definitely not Nikola. In one hand she held a pot of Dulux brilliant white paint and in the other, a paint brush.

"Michael told me you might need to redecorate before you put your painting up."

She said it so casually and with a shrug that Max almost forgot he hadn't seen her in close to six months. His breath caught in his throat when he took in her nose that was red from the cold, her big wool jacket that he'd bought her a year ago for Christmas. He watched as her eyes dipped from his down to his chest and then back up when her cheeks flushed.

He couldn't think of anything to say, so he settled for the only thing he knew right for certain right then.

"Liz?"


	25. Interlude I

Part Twenty-Five  
_Flashback_

"Jesus, Liz, what have you got in here?" Max grumbled as he hefted the last – and, of course, the heaviest – box up the three flights of stairs to their shared, just-off-campus apartment. He dropped it onto the floor beside the other (mostly Liz's) boxes and flopped onto the new (still plastic wrapped) sofa and groaned. "I am never moving again." Liz dropped down beside him and he turned his head to look at her, grinning at the sight of her flushed cheeks and sweat stained t-shirt. "Good look, sweetheart."

Liz scowled and reached over him, rubbing her armpit on his bicep and Max squawked, scrabbling away from her. She followed and in his haste, he ended up on the floor, knocking over a couple of the boxes. He laughed as Liz lunged over the top of him, scrabbling with whatever he'd knocked free. His curiosity got the better of him and he peaked over her shoulder as she grabbed at the items on the floor.

Max stilled. His throat seemed to close in on him and he felt a stirring in his groin that he'd not felt in the presence of a woman... possibly ever.

"Don't. It was Maria. She bought me it for my birthday and-"

"No," Max said, holding his hands up suddenly unable to stop the grin that spread across his face. He eyed the bright pink vibrator (clearly not in its packaging) and looked back to Liz with a smirk. "I like it. Maybe I'll borrow it sometime."

Liz's face paled, became expressionless before she started gagging. Max snorted and swatted her thighs and she made a sound half way between a screech and a giggle.

"I'll make sure to buy you one for your birthday. Is this colour okay?" She asked innocently and Max lifted it from her hands, weighing it in his palm and turning it around from end to end trying to imagine how something **that** big could fit inside of her... That line of thought did **nothing** for the tingling in his groin and he was forced to suppress a groan at the thought of Liz- "Max?"

He looked up at her and licked his lips, watching as her throat moved as she swallowed. He looked up to her eyes and they seemed darker. He shuddered – not all together unpleasantly – and looked back to the pleasure device in his hand.

He quirked a smile.

"Just make sure it's not purple or blue."

Liz matched his smirk and Max took great care when placing her plastic (rubber? He wasn't sure) cock-replacement back into the box it had escaped from. In Max's book, that thing was just asking to be played with.

There was a knock on the door and Liz whirled around as her parents – followed by Max's – trudged into the living room, calling out to them as they went. They made noises of acknowledgement and their parents appeared in the doorway between the hallway and the lounge, looking around at the mess. His mother's eyebrows flitted closer together and Max was suddenly thankful that Isabel was in Germany.

"Wouldn't it have made much more sense to drop the boxes in the appropriate room?" She said as she eyed the boxes labelled "bathroom" that were behind the sofa. Max and Liz shrugged and Nancy Parker laughed, leaning down to lift a box into the kitchen. "This place will be a disaster area if you two don't look after it properly."

"Mom," Max moaned but she just smiled and moved away. "If you want to help, just move boxes – we'll unpack the rest later."

"Okay," she agreed and moved to the box Liz had stuffed the remaining errant escapees into.

"No!" Liz exclaimed and Max choked on his laughter as Liz lunged herself at the box, covering the top of it with her chest. He snorted at his mother's puzzled face and couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped at the sight of Liz's pink face. "I'll get this one, thanks," she said hastily and stood, grabbing the box tightly to her chest.

Max laughed out loud as her mother smiled knowingly at the girl's retreating back.

--

"That was horrific," Liz said three days later. "I am never moving again."

Max dropped to the floor in front of the sofa and shouldered his way in between her legs.

"She sees the light," he murmured as her fingers dove into his hair. He almost purred at the sensation of her fingers in his hair. "Have you unpacked your videos?" Liz grunted in response, her nails grazing his scalp and this time he **did** purr. "All alphabetised and chronological?" Her fingers tightened around his hair and she pulled and his purr turned into a quiet moan as the sensations shot straight to his waking cock.

"Why?"

"I'm in the mood for Ewan McGregor and Robert Carlisle."

"Ugh," Liz moaned and leaned over so Max could feel her breath on his neck. Goosebumps appeared on his arms and he shifted his hips slightly. "I am not watching Trainspotting again." Max sighed. "What about Gladiator?"

"Too weepy."

"X-Men?"

"Ohhh, Hugh Jackman."

"You get it."

"And mess up your system? I wouldn't dare."

Liz sighed and pushed him away from her. "When I get back, you're giving me a shoulder rub."

He turned to look up at her and grinned.

"So long as you rub something of mine later." She pierced him with a stare and Max chuckled. "Or I can do it myself."

"Rule number one: clean your own sheets."

When she left Max stood and went into the kitchen in search of munchies. The cupboards, while bare of actual food, had plenty of junk and he rifled through the assortment of chips and dips, marshmallows and jelly sweets and pulled out a couple of bags of each. He tossed them to the sofa from the doorway and turned to the fridge and took out two glass bottles of coke, capping them on the edge of the counter. He rubbed the small divot he'd made and hoped Liz didn't notice.

When she came back, she was a lot less dressed than before; her jeans and tee shirt were gone and were replaced by a short pair of shorts and a thin vest that allowed Max to see the outline of her nipples. When she leaned down to put the DVD into the new player, Max tilted his head and watched her butt as it moved in the shorts. When his groin stirred again, he caught himself and looked away, opting to fiddle with the tassle on the cushion he was leaning against instead.

"Budge up," Liz demanded as she stood in front of the sofa and Max looked up to her for one uncomprehending moment then smiled slightly, shifting his body so he was laying on the sofa, his back against the back and Liz settled against his front.

Before the movie even started, Max's hand had found its way from her hip to her stomach, where it remained for half the movie. From there, it slid down to her thigh, his thumb drawing small, lazy circles where the fabric stopped and skin started.

By the end of the movie, if Liz was as sexually frustrated as he was, she didn't say.


	26. Interlude II

Part Twenty Six

Liz sighed and Maria glanced over to her before looking back at Michael. Christmas this year had been hard for Liz; it was the first Christmas for what felt like forever that she hadn't spent with Max. She hadn't even called him to wish him a Merry Christmas and she hated it. He hadn't responded to the Christmas card she had sent him and Michael had informed her that he hadn't seen the funny side of it.

Clearly the message had been a little too subtle for his dense as rock brain to understand.

Boxing day had come and gone in a blur of hung over dish-cleaning and gift-putting-away and a studious attempt to avoid the skinny jeans she had been going to wear to the party Michael and Maria were throwing later in the week. She did not want to think of how much food she had tried to drown herself in on Christmas day.

Her cell chirped on her bed and she reached over to it, flipping it round the right way and she stared at the screen for a second before grinning slightly. She hadn't heard from John since before Max had left and as soon as she saw his name she felt a small tug that her let know she'd missed him more than she cared to think about. Instead of replying with a text, Liz lifted the cell to her ear and waited for him to answer.

"Well hello downtown," John said cheerfully in lieu of an actual greeting and Liz giggled slightly. "Happy belated Christmas, Elizabeth," he said and Liz wondered just how much he'd had to drink.

"Happy belated Christmas to you too, John," she replied lightly and lowered herself until she was perched on the edge of her bed. She leant forward onto her elbows and tilted her head, letting her tired eyes drift closed.

"I was wondering if I could pull a Max and come sleep at your place?" Liz straightened slightly both at Max's name being said and John's question. John _never_ asked to stay at hers. Ever.

"Of course," she replied instead of questioning and the line suddenly went dead. She pulled her cell away and glanced at it as someone knocked on her front door. "Ah," she said with a small smile and she stood, moving towards the door. When she swung it open, John leant forward, gripped her head between his hands and pushed his lips against hers. She didn't respond, too shocked really, and John pulled back almost instantly, gazing down at her with a confused expression on his face. "What?" Liz asked and lifted her eyebrow as John sighed.

"I was just wondering if I was missing something." Liz's eyebrows raised of their own accord as John sidled passed her and into her hallway. She shut the door and turned to him, one hand on her hip. "No offence, Lizzy, but I don't know see what the draw is."

Liz took it as a challenge.

"Well if you had given me the chance to respond instead of just molesting my lips for a second or two you might have some basis to that theory, sir," she said acidly and she hoped John knew her tone was not entirely serious. She would admit that she was a little irked by his dismissal of her kissing abilities. But she also thought it was extremely amusing that John had kissed her.

"If I kiss you, will you kiss me back?" Liz thought for a second then nodded. "Okay..."

John stepped up to her again and Liz tilted her head up to look at him. He sighed again and Liz lifted herself up onto her tiptoes. John met her halfway and touched his lips to hers. He was hesitant and slow so Liz wrapped her hand around his neck and tugged him closer to her. He deepened the kiss with his tongue, brushing it against Liz's and while it wasn't a bad kiss, it wasn't exactly... anything else, either.

They pulled back and Liz raised her eyebrow in question as John ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"I will admit that you are a good kisser," John conceded and Liz smirked while wondering if it was possible that she was still a little drunk. "But it doesn't really do it for me." Liz snorted.

"What's all this in aid of?"

John shrugged.

"Just wanted to see what all of the fuss was about."

Liz frowned again and motioned for John to precede her into the lounge. Once they were seated John turned to her and watched her closely.

"I ran into Kyle. He told me Max left. And what he knew of why."

Liz gasped slightly and looked away from John's eyes.

"You didn't know he'd left?" She asked eventually, stupidly. John shook his head. "He's an idiot."

John laughed and nodded.

"Yes, he is." Liz smiled up at him. "But so are you." Liz glared at him. "Liz, that man has been in love with you for longer than I care to imagine. Definitely for as long as I've known him; probably even longer."

Liz snorted. She'd heard this before, from Maria and Michael but she refused to believe it. If Max truly was in love with her, something would have happened while they lived together at college. He wouldn't have dated John. He wouldn't be _gay_.

But then the other side of Liz's brain kicked in and told her that she had dated Soren while she'd been in love with Max, that she'd managed to live with him and not jump him, despite his quite blatant open invitations to help ease some _tension_ he felt from class.

"Yeah, right."

John shrugged his shoulders.

"And it's because you can't see that that you're an idiot." He pursed his lips and reached out to the end of Liz's hair. "You need a hair cut," he said, changing the subject so abruptly that Liz couldn't hold back the incredulous burst of laughter that tried to escape. "What?" John said innocently, his eyes glistening with mirth. "You do."

"I'll drop by," Liz said to acquiesce him and John nodded.

"Before you go see Max in SF?"

Liz snorted again.

"I'm not going to see Max, in San Francisco or anywhere else."

John shrugged.

"If you say so." Liz eyed him with a glare but he simply shrugged his shoulders. "Do I get to share your bed, too?"

Liz rolled her eyes but motioned for him to follow her anyway.

--

"Max called you, did you know that?" Michael said to her as she let herself into his and Maria's apartment. Liz stopped, her back still to him with her hand pressed to the door and felt her shoulders tense. "On Christmas day." Liz's throat made a strange squeaking noise and she closed her eyes against it. "Your cell was off."

She let out a small breath at that, feeling tears prickle at the back of her eyes. She'd kept her phone off all day so that she wouldn't be disappointed when he didn't call. She should have known her genius plan would backfire.

"Why didn't he leave a message?" She asked quietly, unable to turn to Michael.

"I don't know," he said eventually, just as quietly as she had spoken and it forced Liz to turn to him.

"I miss him, Michael," she said brokenly and Michael shifted on the spot.

"He misses you, too."

"Then why won't he come home?"

Michael's stare hardened for a moment and Liz flinched under his stare, knowing that she'd managed to set him off again.

"Maybe it's not his turn."

Liz eyed him for a moment, looking for the meaning to his words. When he quirked his eyebrow in her direction, she knew what she had to do.

"You're right."

"Of course I am."

--

She'd gotten his address from Michael and paid ridiculous sums of money for her plane ticket. She'd been wished happy new year by random people on the street more times than she could count and she had long since lost feeling in her hand that held the four litre tub of paint.

It would all be worth it, she reminded herself as she walked down a chilly, wind-tunnel of a street towards what was hopefully the correct building. She'd tried hailing a cab but the streets were dormant and she'd been forced to walk. It could have been worse; it could have been Boston temperatures and there could have been ice.

She checked the address on her phone against the building in front of her and she felt her heart rate double then triple until it beat a relentless staccato against her rib cage. She could do this. Of course she could do this. It was just Max.

It was Max.

Oh God, she couldn't do this. How could she do this? Did she really expect him to be okay with her just showing up on his doorstep? He obviously didn't want to see her. He hadn't even given her his phone number.

"You're here now," she argued aloud. "Don't let that thousand dollar flight go to waste."

She climbed the stairs, stopping only at the front of the door to his apartment. She could hear him moving about, the sounds incredibly muffled through the door but she could hear him nonetheless. She closed her eyes.

"You can do this."

She knocked, and stood her ground even as her heart slammed about in her chest, trying to break free. Even as her legs threatened to cave in beneath her. She shifted the paint from one hand to the other, her arms vibrating. His muffled sounds grew louder and he called out and Liz almost lost it right there and then. Her breath caught as she heard the door unlock and she froze, her body a solid sculpture in the hallway when the door opened and he was half naked and oh my god she wanted to touch him, anywhere. Somewhere.

She said something ridiculous, the words sounding more confident than she felt.

He stared at her blankly, his eyes moving across her for a second with no recognition in them and for a moment Liz felt ice spread through her veins until the fire that erupted in his eyes burned the little crystals away.

"Liz..."

She pulled her lips between her teeth and ducked her head, closing her eyes for a moment before she met his eyes again. They were dark. His chest was bare.

Was he alone?

"Max..." She breathed out and waited. He seemed to be waiting, too. For her to disappear, perhaps? For her to leave? To come in? God, she'd never been so confused or terrified or...

"What are you doing here?"

She looked down again and bit back the pain that erupted in her chest at his cool tone. She took a breath, then another and battled back the tear.

"I miss you," she said quietly, unevenly and she felt a tear trickle down her cheek.

She dropped the tub of paint with a loud thud when she felt Max's arms wrap around her and she let out the sob that had been threatening, flinging her body into his and wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could. She sobbed into his neck, breathing in his scent as his lips grazed the skin at her neck.

"I've missed you, too..."

He pulled her tighter against him and Liz pulled herself up against him.

She was home.


	27. The Closing Scenes

Part Twenty-Seven

She missed him? After all this time, that's all she has to say to him? It's ridiculous and so incredibly not enough that it's not even funny but he can't help but hold her to him tighter. And she was crying – oh God, she was crying and if that sound didn't do awful, awful things to him then he didn't know what would. He pulled her into his apartment with a mental note to go back and pick up the discarded paint tub and pushed the door closed with his foot. Liz didn't let go of him and he really, really didn't want to let go of her either.

They stood there for uncountable minutes, Liz weeping into his chest and him jut holding her tighter. She was in San Francisco. Liz was in San Francisco – she had come for him. Hadn't this been what Isabel had told him had to happen? That Liz had to come to him now because he'd already given up so much for her?

He pulled back slightly and looked down at her, urging her face away from his body with his chin and his fingers and when she looked up at him, eyes red-rimmed and tearful he smiled. He _smiled_ at her and brushed his fingers down her cheeks, to her lips and back across her cheeks until his fingers found themselves nestled in the hair at the base of her skull and his fingers urged her face closer to hers. He moved slowly, giving her ample opportunity to pull away but when Liz's eyes fluttered shut, he lashes coming to rest on her tear streaked cheeks, he leaned in the rest of the way and brushed his lips across hers. Once, twice, gently and she breathed across the gap between them, washing him in her scent and her hands around his waist moved up to his neck, urging him closer.

When she touched her tongue to his he lost it. She was against the door in seconds, all loud moans and quiet gasps, her cold hands warming against the scorching skin of his back, his waist and he was lost to her as she tugged on the ends of his hair and he moaned and they were all wild and abandoned and her leg was hitched up against his hip and his hands were urging the coat from her shoulders while his mouth plundered hers furiously.

Then the sound of someone banging on his door broke through the fog and Max remembered that he was supposed to be going out. That he was supposed to be hooking up with a guy named Jason and that Nikki was on the other side of the door waiting to take him out to a party.

He pulled back then, quickly, and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't look at Liz – couldn't, really -because he was afraid he would devour her again and he needed some space to gain some perspective. How could she have this effect on him? After everything, the first thing he does is push her against the wall and give into the temptations of her body? Even to him, in his sex-deprivation-fogged brain, that's just not cool.

Liz pushed off the wall and righted herself, while Nikki continued to pound on the door, laughing and shouting and Max glanced to Liz to gage her reaction. She simply bit her lip and half hid behind him when he reached for the handle of the door and pulled the door open both thankful and disgruntled by the sight of the woman on the other side.

"Holy shit, Maxwell, was Michael's painting that bad that you decided to paint over it?"

"Shut up," he grumbled as he stepped aside, reaching out to take the tub of paint from Nikki as she stepped into the apartment.

"Tess will be pissed that you're not ready ye... Well, hello there little lady," Nikki said, eventually noticing Liz and Max winced slightly as Nikki looked over Liz and his' obviously... ruffled appearance. "Hm," Nikki grunted quietly and looked to Max with an amused expression on her face. "I think _Jason_ is the one who is going to be disappointed tonight," she said cheekily and Max heard Liz's quiet hiss and when he turned to her, she was frowning and a blush was covering her cheeks.

Max guessed she thought... well, he didn't want to guess but neither did he want to put her out of her misery quite yet. He had a life in San Francisco – new friends and... more that she didn't know about. He couldn't exactly blame her for the kiss because he _had_ initiated it but... He felt the anger return at the thought that she expected him to just give up his life for her. How did she know he would be home? It was New Years Eve, after all. He _should_ be at a party. If she had been ten minutes later, he would have been out. What then?

"This is Liz," he said to Nikki and watched as Liz smiled but didn't hold out her hand.

Nikki's eyes met his and her eyebrow quirked slightly and her assessing eyes wandered back to Liz.

"I can see why you'd go celibate for her," Nikki said with a nod of her head and Max knew his blush rivalled Liz's at the comment.

"Shut up."

"That's twice Max. You know I don't take kindly to being told to shut up."

"Maybe if you thought before you spoke you wouldn't be told to shut up as much."

"Everything I say is well thought out. It's not my fault you can't see the thought processes behind my speeches."

"Speeches?"

"And dear Elizabeth Parker, you are one fine specimen of the female form. I'd like to photograph you but from the feral look on Max's face at my comment, I guess he's not one who likes to share."

"Nikki is a porn photographer."

"I am not. I take pictures of woman's beauty. I can't help that us of the fairer sex look better in little to no clothing."

"She's a porn photographer," Max stated smugly and quirked a challenging eyebrow at Nikki again. "But I would take it as a compliment, Liz. She's very picky about her models."

There was an odd silence and Max realised he hadn't looked at Liz since Nikki had stepped into his apartment. He was in no rush to remedy that fact.

"Thanks," Liz said quietly from behind Max and he tilted his head in her direction. Her quiet tone shot straight to his heart and he winced slightly but fought the urge to reach out to her. Despite everything, he still considered her one of his best friends, at least. "I... didn't think this through very well, did I? I'm sorry, I didn't... you have plans," she said in a rush and Max felt her moving behind him. "I'll just..." She moved by him and to the door and she was halfway out before Nikki reached out and grabbed onto her arm.

"He doesn't have plans. Not with us, anyway."

Liz looked over to Max and he met her eye for a moment before looking away.

"He does. I'll see you later."

"Where are you staying, Liz?" He asked loudly and she stopped in the hallway, turning her head slightly and looked at him without meeting his eye.

"I'll find somewhere."

Max rolled his eyes and shook his head. She really hadn't thought this through and that was so _not_ Liz. She normally had a plan to make a plan and the fact that she was here, without a plan, without a clue was a big fucking deal. And he what? He was just going to let her walk out of his apartment?

Hell the fuck no.

"Get in here you idiot."

Liz snorted and shook her head but he could tell from the shaking in her shoulders that she was laughing. He'd never been more grateful.

"I'll... tell Tess you changed your mind." She gave Max a significant look which he returned. Tess would _not_ be happy with Liz's appearance in San Francisco.

When Nikki was gone – after a few more lewd comments towards Liz – Max was left with a bemused smile on his face as he watched Liz tilt her head as she watched Nikki walk away.

"You wouldn't guess that she's a roman road, right?"

Liz snorted lightly and shook her head.

"Definitely not." She turned to him, an evanescent smile on her lips that Max couldn't help but return. He reached out and brushed his thumb down her forearm, watching his digit's progress with rapt attention. When his thumb reached he fingers, she wrapped his hands within her slender grip. "I have a lot to say and I have no idea where to start."

Max looked up then, into her eyes. He studied the brown pools for a long moment before nodding, withdrawing his hand to run it through his hair.

"How about with a seat?" Liz nodded and followed him into the lounge. When she took a seat in the armchair, her knees drawn up to her chest, her jacket strewn across the back, Max knew he was in for a long night. "So..."

"So..."

A long night indeed.


	28. And the Curtain

**And the Curtain**

The silence had dragged on for...well, for far too long in Max's opinion yet he was reluctant to be the first to break it. He was always the one to give; besides, she was the one who travelled across the country to him. Surely she had [i]something[/i] to say. He shifted in the seat again and looked to the clock on the wall; it was slowly getting closer and closer to the New Year. He hoped this issue would resolve itself before then.

He wasn't sure what he felt... He was glad that she was there with him but her sudden appearance and subsequent silence was irritating him beyond measure. As was her shuffling because it made him want to reach out and touch her, to still her constant motion and bring her some sort of ease. It was what he would normally have done.

But these were not normal circumstances and it was taking all of his will power to curb his natural instincts.

"I have so many questions..." Liz said finally and Max snorted, shaking his head slightly.

"You're not the only one," he said derisively and Liz lifted an un-amused eyebrow in his direction. He shrugged, unrepentant. "I'll answer your questions."

His last statement was redundant: [i]of course[/i] he would answer her questions. In his isolation in San Francisco, Max had come to learn that he was really quite pathetic when it came to Liz. Pathetically hopeless and as much as he hated it right not, he wouldn't change it.

"Why didn't you go to UCLA?"

Max stilled, his eyes falling from her face to his hands.

"I didn't get in."

"Don't lie to me." Max snapped his head up to look at her. "You told me you didn't get in but you did. Why didn't you go? More importantly, why did you [i]lie[/i] about it? Was I the only person who didn't know?"

Max looked back up to her and he felt his heart rate increase as he watched her fidgeting lessen and her eyes fix on him. His decision not to go to UCLA hadn't seemed like that big of a deal at the time. He had wanted to go with Liz and she had gone to Boston. BU wasn't a bad choice; it was only his second because he hadn't wanted to give up to Roswell temperatures and UCLA offered him just the appropriate climate. And, if he was honest, when he had applied, a part of him hoped Liz wouldn't come with him – he had wanted to go it alone, to do the whole independent thing. He'd just only really discovered his sexuality and he thought he owed it to himself to find himself out there.

But when it became obvious that he would be in California without Liz... He had come to realise just how integral to his life she had become. The thought of her being on the other side of the country from him, only to be seen (maybe) at Christmas and Thanksgiving and possibly spring break... It hadn't been worth thinking about. He felt hollow at the thought, let alone actually doing it.

So when he got his acceptance to UCLA it had been simultaneously the best and worst experience of his life. He had simply tucked it away in a drawer in his room and, three days later, had sent his letter thanking them but turning down their offer of a full scholarship. There hadn't really been a competition, especially when Liz had told him she wanted him to come to Boston.

"Michael knew and I'm guessing it was him that told you. My parents didn't even know. My dad was so mad with UCLA when I told them I didn't get in – he couldn't understand it... He threatened to write to them and demand a reassessment," he chuckled slightly at the memory but he glanced at Liz's unamused face and knew she didn't appreciate his candour. "I knew that if I told you, you would make me go and... I didn't want to be that far from you."

"But Max... that was what you wanted to do. Getting into UCLA meant everything to you. UCLA was what Harvard was to me." Max shrugged and looked away from her again. All of this was such a long time ago. He hated that it was impacting them [i]now[/i]. "I... I wouldn't have done the same. The thought of turning down Harvard never even crossed my mind." Max knew that and it stung as much now as it did then but he didn't say anything. "I didn't even apply to UCLA."

"You knew what you wanted, Liz."

"So did you!" Liz guffawed and Max looked up, meeting her eyes.

"I wanted to be with you." Liz paled slightly and sank into her chair a little. He bit the inside of his lip and met her eyes again. "What I mean is... at the time, all I knew was that I couldn't stand the thought of being that far from you. You were my best friend... I couldn't lose you to the east coast. You know how those things happen – you stay in contact for a few months, then the emails get shorter and time between them grows. Then you stop seeing each other at Christmas and... I didn't want that for us, Liz..."

"That wouldn't-"

"You know it would have. It would have been inevitable."

Silence surrounded them again and it was Max's turn to fidget. Admitting those things out loud made it sound so much more... ridiculously pathetic. It [i]was[/i] ridiculously pathetic but he would still go back and do it all over again if he could. He didn't regret the choice at the time and he certainly didn't and wouldn't now.

"You were going to do the same again weren't you?" Liz said eventually and Max frowned at her, not entirely sure what she was asking. "You weren't going to come here, were you?" Max waited a second before he shook his head. Liz closed her eyes and Max watched as a silver tear dripped down her cheek. She didn't move to wipe it away. "I was never mad at you, Max."

Max frowned. He was pretty sure she [i]was[/i] mad when she threw his out of her house and told him not to come back. That what had happened between them shouldn't have happened and that it would definitely never happen again. It had crushed him, a lot more than it should have. She hadn't even asked him his opinion; she hadn't even given him the opportunity...

"Liz..."

"You're my best friend, Max. Michael told me that... that it was my fault you gave up everything you ever wanted and I... I couldn't let you do that again. Not for me. I'm not worth it."

Max was in front of her in a move so fast even his mind hadn't processed it. His hands were on her knees as she wept into her upturned palms.

"Liz... Isn't it enough that I thought you were worth it?" She only sobbed harder and Max didn't know what to do. So he kept rubbing her arms, her shoulders. "You're my best friend, Liz... I hate that what happened changed things but... after everything, you're still... it's still you."

Liz wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him between her legs, crushing them together. He didn't complain; instead, he took a breath and his nose was filled with the scent of Liz and his cock began stirring again despite his efforts to quell its inappropriate reappearance.

"I don't deserve you... I'm a crappy friend."

Max ducked his head further into her hair and nosed some of the strands out of the way, tracing his nose along the skin beneath her ear. He felt her shiver in his arms and his cock liked that entirely too much.

"You're not a crappy friend... It's not your fault that I'm just better at it than you."

She chuckled slightly at that and drew back, smacking his shoulders lightly.

"I've missed you so much," she whispered and traced her fingers over his features and it was his turn to shiver at her gentle touch. How could he not have noticed how her touch ignited his skin for all those years? It explained so much... "I was so angry, Max... I'm so sorry for the... for the way I didn't handle it..." She took a breath and Max was too distracted by the rise and fall of her bosom, right in front of his face, to say anything in response. "I had so many more questions but I can't remember what they were," she admitted as she played with the hairs at the back of his head.

"Me neither," he murmured as he leaned forward and nuzzled her hair again, shuddering as her fingers slid through his hair again. He twitched.

"That night, Max..." he began and Max knew exactly which night she was referring to. "Do you regret it?"

He drew back from her then and settled in on his knees, watching her feature as she watched his. Eventually, he shook his head. He could [i]never[/i] regret that night – and he told her so.

"I hate everything that happened after it but that night... being inside of you, Liz..." he closed his eyes as his body remembered the sensation; of her warmth surrounding him, of her voice murmuring his name...

When he opened his eyes again, she was smiling softly down to him, her eyes glistening again and she nodded when he met her eyes.

"I know what you mean."

He wrapped his arms around her again and they stayed like that for a long time. Max continued to breathe in her scent, rememorizing it and she sniffled every so often but, like so many other moments between them, it was right.

He didn't know where this left them, at all. Because, although they had sort of talked about stuff, he wasn't sure anything had really been resolved. Sure, some of it was... she had apologised to him for flaking out but... He was still on the other side of the country from her and...

"I'm not coming back to Boston, Liz," he said, feeling like an ass for breaking the silence with such a negative sentiment but he was surprised when she snorted out a soft laugh. He pulled back and looked at her, realising only then how uncomfortably he had been.

"I know you're not. I don't expect you to." She trailed her fingers over his jaw. "You've given up enough for me."

"Liz-"

"We'll figure something out, Max." She sighed and leaned her forehead against hers. "You're my best friend... whatever else happened, that's the truth."

He nodded against her and he watched in amusement as she fought back a yawn. Slowly, he drew back from her and stood, holding his hand out to her. She took it, her fingertips trailing across his palm causing the skin to flare under her gentle caress.

"Let's go to bed," he said to her and drew her up, smirking when her eyes widened as she pressed against the hardness in his jeans. "To sleep, Liz. You must be exhausted."

She nodded as she followed his down the corridor – he spared a glance to the door that he had pushed her up against – and led her to his bedroom. Once inside, he handed her a pair of sweats and a tee shirt, slipping into his bathroom to give her privacy to change. In there, he stripped and splashed water on his face, hissing as some of the cool liquid landed on his overheated chest. He looked down to his protruding erection and frowned at it, deciding to leave it in hopes it would disappear on its own. He doubted it but he could dream.

He pulled on the sweats he'd collected for himself and wiped the few droplets of liquid from his chest before heading back into his bedroom. Liz was changed and sitting hesitantly on the edge of his bed. He smiled as he approached her, running his fingers through her hair and down across her cheek. She smiled up to him as he urged her to lie back on the bed, fixing the covers around her as she moved. Once she was settled, he moved around the bed and got in at the other side. They wasted no time in migrating to one another and Max sighed as he nosed the hair away from her shoulder so he could rest his head there. Her hand covered his on her stomach and he tightened his grip on her slightly.

He glanced to the bedside clock and smiled slightly.

"Happy New Year, Liz," he murmured as he pressed a kiss to the exposed skin of her neck.

She drew her fingers along the back of his forearm and lifted his hand so she could kiss his palm.

"Happy New Year, Max."

Liz was asleep within minute. Max lay awake beside her for a long time, just listening to the sounds of her breathing and thinking over their long history. He thought of the times they shared in school, then again living together at college. He thought of living with her again in her small apartment in Boston and now it felt to have her in his arms now.

And it was then, at the precipice of waking and sleep, that Max realised he was – and had always been – in love with Liz Parker.

The End.


End file.
